The Great Revival
by Chuck Poon
Summary: In this alternate timeline, the year is 2011 and it has been 15 years since the fall of Lord Zedd and Rita. By some miracle, the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers have revived to battle the demons that began to torment Angel Grove. New youths in old suits.
1. Prologue

_The night sky exploded with light as the roar of thunder followed soon after. Rain fell swiftly, making the soil spongy and heavy. For the grave robber, Bryan, each shovelful was heavy and clung to the end of his spade akin to a newborn and its mother. He could feel the moisture seeping through his dark garments and the cold dampness weighing upon his achy joints. None of that mattered; he had his eye on a very lucrative prize. Rumour had circulated throughout the underworld of Angel Grove that the grave of a Power Ranger from the colonial era rested nearby. No one knew exactly where. After years of searching, Bryan felt more confident than ever that he was digging closer and closer to the very grave of the Green Ranger from that time._

_The impact of his shovel striking through the remaining layer of soil and into the coffin shattered the silence in Bryan's mind, far louder than thunder ever could. His heart pounded with enough force to resonate through his tiny and wiry frame. The petty criminal frantically cleaned the soil off of the coffin lid and stood over the now exposed box, triumphantly._

"_This is it," he chuckled, "my pay day is finally here. Any relic of him will make me rich!"_

_The downpour ended with one final crash of thunder. The clouds seemed to instantly part as though a curtain were suddenly opened to reveal a radiant night sky painted with thousands of stars. Bryan looked up, feeling uneasy. The storm seemed to end almost supernaturally and chills shot down his spine. He swallowed, wrapping his fingers around the coffin lid. With a few tugs, invoking all of his strength, the coffin lid did not budge. It was nailed shut._

_The man gasped, wondering why a coffin would be nailed shut. It wouldn't matter in a moment, because the wood was centuries old and rotting. He jammed his shovel into a place where there was a soft and decayed spot in the wood. Bryan pushed down onto the make shift lever and the lid, as well as most of the coffin, came undone. The grave was now officially desecrated beyond measure. He smirked._

_The body was too old and decomposed to produce any vile odours. All he could smell was the dust and mildew within the final resting place he had just disturbed. The skeleton laid within the pine box, overtop of its locks of old hair that had fallen out of the scalp as the body decomposed. The robber growled furiously. There was nothing here! Or was there? He noticed a shimmer from the corner of his eye. It was a golden device with a coin in the center of it._

_Bryan immediately snatched the device away from the deceased Ranger's bony grasp, breaking the brittle fingers that encased it. He wondered if this was a device that gave all Power Rangers the ability to transform. His mind came alive with a new epiphany. He wouldn't sell this device into the black market, no, he would use it to become a Power Ranger and obtain his wealth with his new powers. _

"_Transform!" he cried, extending his arms as he held out the morpher. Nothing happened._

"_Fuck!" he snarled, feeling like a fool as his grip on the device loosened. _

_All of a sudden, his fingers tightened upon the device. He was not in control of himself. Bryan began to grip the morpher so tightly that blood began to trickle down the palms of his hands. He let out a whimper, fearing for his life. He had desecrated the fallen Ranger's place of rest and now the spirit was seeking revenge. At least, that is what he believed. In all actuality, the coin within the device was a sentient entity with every intention of retaliation. His hands began to burn and pain seared through every fibre of his being. Bryan let out a scream as a green beam of light engulfed him. The coin had also chosen its catalyst to reproduce a new batch of entities much like itself._

_Bryan's body began to rapidly age as the life force was drained out of him. With each second, he seemed to age a year and the coin shone brighter. Pink foam frothed from his mouth as he began to convulse violently. His life was now ending and it was anything but quick and painless. It was more like quick and extremely painful. Upon his death, his body began to rapidly decay. In a swift instant, a red, blue, yellow, pink, and black light shot into the starry sky. The light of the morpher faded and each color now fell into the skyline of Angel Grove like shooting stars. The coin with a dragon embedded into it had created it children. Replicas of the old dinosaur power coins were now scattered throughout Angel Grove, seeking vessels to channel their power through. The body of Bryan, now a skeleton, collapsed into the grave, piece by piece. The golden morpher dropped from his hands as he fell, lodging itself into the mud outside of the grave. Soon it would also find its vessel._


	2. Hellfire

**Chapter One: Hellfire**

**18 months later**

Atop a three story apartment complex in a rundown neighbourhood of the city, he stood alone. He spent endless nights roaming the city of Angel Grove, bestowing punishment upon the petty criminals that roamed the streets in such a cavalier manner. Ryan Felding gazed from his vantage point, donned in the outfit of the Green Ranger. The youth of seventeen was less than six feet in height and the green spandex accommodated his slender, yet muscled, body. The helmet and visor to represent the dragon concealed his manic smile. There was a thrill to be had in the line of work he was doing and the posture Ryan displayed did nothing to conceal the boy's haughty nature by any means.

Though the night time sky was a myriad of neon lights, something was suddenly amiss in the near distance. There was a fire and the clamour and screams of people in panic. The boy cracked his knuckles, preparing to rush in and save the day. Before he could take a step off of the rooftop's ledge, another fire lit up on another building. It was close, but not quite close enough for the fire to have jumped. He began to wonder if this was the work of an arsonist.

"What the," he muttered, not finishing his statement out loud. At a much quicker pace, large fires were igniting throughout the neighbourhood. With every passing second, flames were beginning to spread through a great portion of the neighbourhood.

Sirens began to wail in the distance. It was apparent that every fire department in Angel Grove was responding to what would be one of the most significant disasters in Angel Grove throughout the past several years. Ryan had no intention of hesitating; he was a Power Ranger and was in turn responsible to fight for the safety of the innocent. Even if he had to do this alone, he would march into every single building and save any survivors that couldn't escape from the blaze of all the buildings they occupied. With that thought, the boy leapt from the rooftop. He landed swiftly and silently, feeling no pain from the height at which he jumped. He bent into a kneeling position as he landed and sprinted headlong into battle, seeking to clash fiercely with the inferno that was seeking to devour the buildings and souls of the occupants within.

***

As the blazes ignited close to her neighbourhood, a young woman was sprawled across her bed in a deep slumber. Her fingers curled into the comforter as her raven hair flowed beneath her slender frame. The young waitress had just come home from a double shift not more than an hour ago and she slumbered in her bed, peacefully. She smiled and rolled over to her side, still in her uniform as it was only supposed to be a quick nap before she showered and got ready for her date tonight. Milo Jenners was dreaming about the curious device she found not even a month ago. It was when she moved into this seedy apartment, that she found a small box in one of the rooms. Within the vacant suite, it was easy enough for this little box to stand out. When she peered into the box, she found a silver machine that she thought was a cell phone until she saw the golden coin at the device's center. The coin was embedded with what looked like a Tyrannosaurus Rex and it only confused her more because it looked nothing like any cell phone or mp3 player she had ever seen before. At the time, the only conclusion she came to was to take it to the nearest police detachment. Hence the smile while Milo slept, she did no such thing and was dreaming of the extenuating circumstances that prevented her from doing so.

The young woman dreamed vividly of her walk to the police station. Milo did have the best intentions of returning this lost item, yet this machine seemed to call to her from the moment she had laid eyes on it. Perhaps, it was when a man was assaulting a woman in broad daylight that her instincts took over. She don't know what came over her, but she was certain that there was some sort of external urging to do what she did in that very moment: she used the device to become the Red Ranger and—

A frantic and violent knock on the door woke her up.

"Hey! Is anyone in there?! There's a fire! We gotta evacuate!"

"A what?" she replied groggily as she sat up quickly, ending her peaceful slumber. She saw the powerful glow of orange just beyond her window and leapt out of her bed to see the blaze across the street with her own eyes. The flicker of fire reflected in her brown eyes as a look of horror drew over her and the color drained from her now pallid face.

Milo grabbed her little gray purse from her nightstand and scrambled out of her suite, still in the diner uniform she had worked in earlier. That barely mattered right now. The purse contained her morpher and she would find a safe place to stash her purse and transform. The firefighters would need some assistance and she, the Red Ranger, would be there to help them.

"How on earth did I not see this," she muttered to herself, angrily, as she ran down the flights of stairs in her apartment complex and disappeared into a dark alley. In fact, it was the very same building that Ryan first saw the fires from just an hour ago.

From the darkness that Milo disappeared into, the Red Ranger emerged. The red outfit hugged all of her feminine curves, quite comfortably, while accentuating the subtle muscles to reveal the strength that this woman possessed. During the transformation, she could feel her hair form itself tightly into a bun in order for the helmet that concealed her identity to take form upon her.

She couldn't waste anymore time. A great deal of the neighbourhood was kissed by the flames. Milo knew that the firefighters, as great as they were, were overwhelmed by this and she had to help in some way. Milo swallowed hard and bravely ran toward the dangers that she would surely face.

***

The cafe was not like many others in this city, she thought to herself while keeping her mind occupied. Her meal would still be a while before it was directly in front of her. Many big name restaurants often choke out the smaller, locally owned, businesses. As the young woman gazed around this place, she immediately thought about that sad reality she had learned of in an economics lecture earlier today. The diner had a quaint feeling to it. The traditional black and white linoleum on the floor seemed to accentuate the overall retro atmosphere. The walls were a pale blue and, to her surprise, meticulously kept. Naomi Takahashi rested her elbows upon the bar of the cafe as she fought the urge to spin herself around on the swivelling barstool. Her brown hair dangled down to just above her shoulders and moved subtly as she turned her head to take the scenery in. The petite young woman smiled, never failing to be fascinated by the interesting little things that America seemed to offer.

It had been a few months since she had made the bold step to leave her home of wealth in Japan. Much to her father's dismay, she wanted to come to California and find her mother who was an American citizen. As a result of her mixed heritage, he eyes were blue and the asian attributes her father offered were quite overshadowed by her mother's appearance. Her father's undying love for her free spirited mother prevailed and he allowed Naomi to depart for America. His only condition for his daughter was that she would study abroad while in America. This has given Naomi the opportunity to live comfortably in her apartment, near the campus, and not have to take on the additional stresses of financially supporting a household during her personal journey.

Life has treated her well so far, but she wished for something more. Naomi didn't want to be the pampered daughter of a Japanese diplomat. Ultimately, she wanted to be a humanitarian that stood up for the general public and protected their well being. In some way, her prayers had recently been answered.

Last week, in the middle of the night, Naomi had awoken to a golden light that came from the courtyard area of her apartment complex. Instinctively, the young woman of eighteen ran outside to investigate this strange sighting. Clad in her nightgown, Naomi found what looked like a silver belt buckle with a golden coin in the center. This belt buckle, upon closer inspection, looked like a machine of some kind. Her first instinct was to discard it, yet there was some sort of magnetism that this device had over her. She had felt a calling and she felt herself utter, "Power Rangers". Confused and curious, Naomi took the morpher back to her suite and spent the entire night researching the Power Rangers over the internet. She had come to learn of the Power Rangers from over a decade ago and that her coin embodied the Sabre-Tooth Tiger. Naomi had yet to make use of her new discovery, but carried it with her at all times.

The sirens from a convoy of trucks deployed by the Angel Grove Fire Department shattered her reverie. Naomi raised an eyebrow, wondering what on earth was happening out there.

"Oh my," said the larger woman behind the counter, she was middle aged and carried a maternal aura as she moved gracefully to the television. "I wonder if anything is on the news, those were a lot of fire trucks, hun," she said, looking back to Naomi.

"Yeah, I hope nobody is getting hurt out there," she sighed, worrying that people were already dead judging from the number of fire trucks out there and continuing to pass by.

The older waitress turned the television on and Naomi could immediately see a news anchor standing before what looked like an entire neighbourhood in flames.

"Though our firefighters have bravely battled the blaze tonight, it seems that the Angel Heart Hospital is being overrun with burn victims. Many other health care facilities continue to work to accommodate the casualties resulting from what appears to be the great disaster to strike Angel Grove in almost fifteen years. The Angel Grove Police Department has stated that arson may have been the cause for what has transpired tonight."

Naomi took her eyes away from the television. Many news anchors were attractive and even though she knew why, it didn't lessen the edge from this kind of news. The disgustingly attractive man in his late twenties continued to speak on the disaster taking place and conducted 'on-camera' interviews with a handful of the survivors.

"The Power Rangers have returned!" cried the electronic voice of a frantic survivor.

Naomi immediately looked back to the screen, feeling surprised at the words of this woman who had just lost her home.

"Could you tell me more about this?" queried the charismatic anchor.

"Somebody in a red spandex outfit broke through the debris in my apartment; it looked like a woman was underneath that costume. She saved my life and the flames, they didn't hurt her. Thank heaven for such an amazing hero. I wouldn't be here right now," replied the woman.

"It's true!" cried a man in the crowd. "I saw a man in a green outfit carry survivors out of another building!"

Naomi could not believe what she was seeing unfold on the television. There were others like her and they were out saving lives in the midst of this catastrophe. What on earth was she still doing here? Without another thought, she took a ten dollar bill out of her black school bag and set it down on the counter. Naomi decided her schoolbag would remain safe here, so she quietly took her morhper out of the bag to avoid anyone discovering it. She stood up and began to walk to the door of the restaurant. The young woman broke into a run after she made her way past the glass doors of the diner. She would also help these brave souls who flirted with death and fought the fires that were destroying so many lives.

When she came into a secluded alleyway, she felt her heart pound. Instinct was taking over and she could see the yellow light resonating with the quickening of her heart beat. She would call upon the Sabre-Tooth Tiger and become the Yellow Ranger. Her face tightened with resolve. It all made sense now.

"Sabre-Tooth Tiger!" cried Naomi, holding her arms out as she clutched her morpher, curling her fingers tightly over the device.

The warm light engulfed her, embraced her. Naomi could feel the outfit envelop her short and slender frame of five feet. Her field of vision became tinted with the visor of the helmet forming around her head. When the golden light subsided, she stood proudly as the Yellow Ranger.

"I will find the others," Naomi declared, speaking only to herself.

The young woman, adorned as a superhero in yellow, sprinted through the alleyways and advanced toward the epicentre of the disaster unfolding. The paths of each Ranger, through an act of fate, were slowly converging.

***

It was utterly sickening, watching the people crowd around the barricades that the police had set up. This debacle had been going on for hours now and it was a different sort of calling that brought her out from her home. Her silver stare fell upon the onlookers, her eyes glittered with scorn.

"There is always a spectator to any event," she growled, silently.

Her right hand instinctively reached into the pocket of her jogging pants and her fingers coiled around the familiar silver device. Ceres Freyja could not explain it, but there was something about this device that evoked emotions such as rage, anxiety, and even hate. These feelings toward everyone, they just seemed out of character. Was it the morpher that made her this way? Or was it depression? Either way, she had already rained vengeance upon a few of those who were clever enough to slip through the justice system. What was there to be depressed about now? She had her revenge, didn't she?

Over a year ago, Ceres was shot three times in the chest and left for dead by a man that she had once helped put behind bars. This man could not be contained by the justice system forever and he sought her out to have his revenge. It was the day that a part of her died on the inside, the day that her career as police officer ended. Even though she'd be able to return in a matter of months, her family has addressed their concerns about their only daughter putting her life on the line for this kind of work. Until just a week ago, she felt hopeless and depressed. It all seemed so wasteful to her. A man who had been trying to court her for a couple years donated the money to pay for her surgeries and physiotherapy over the past year. Had she not received them, she wouldn't be in the peak physical shape she was in today. She didn't love this man and the fact that she felt indebted to him only served to make her feel worse.

It was a week ago when everything seemed to take a turn for the better. It was a misty morning in the park where she jogged every morning. Nothing seemed different on that day, yet a blue flash of light stopped her dead in her tracks. A man adorned in a black druid's robe came out of the woods and held out something she immediately recognized: a Power Morpher. The man, in his silken yet powerful voice, told her that this device chose its host and it was calling to her. When he asked her if she could hear the call, she stepped forward and claimed the morpher. Before the man disappeared, he urged her to fulfill her innermost desires with her newfound power. That is exactly what she did. In a few short days, she used her powers as the Blue Ranger to murder the scum of Angel Grove that outsmarted the justice system. To be the executioner of justice was a thrill she enjoyed, yet it also tugged on her insides. She wasn't normally like this. It pained her to feel as though she was walking the path of darkness and liking it. Her true desires couldn't lie within the path of darkness? Could they? Who was she becoming?

Tonight would be different. Tonight, she would not use her powers for personal gain and, instead, she would save the people still alive in some of these burning buildings. Her heroic deeds would set her on the path of atonement.

The woman noticed an officer that she recognized at the police barricade and made her way over to see him. The male officer, almost overweight and Hispanic, nodded to herald her arrival and smiled. She began to quicken her pace and flipped her long blonde hair over her left shoulder as she neared him.

"Ramirez," she said, returning his smile.

"Ceres Freyja," he beamed, "It's been a while. The boys miss you down at the precinct. How come you don't visit us?"

"I've been busy and all that. I came to investigate this fiasco. I was worried about our boys and the people inside those buildings," she said gravely, knowing that a lot of people were trapped, dying, or already burnt to ashes. The obvious drop in her tone signified her concerns to Ramirez.

"Unfortunately," sighed Ramirez, "the paramedics and fire department just couldn't keep up tonight. A lot of people are dead now. The flames are beginning to get under control, but they just don't seem to go out at all."

"That is very strange," she muttered, wondering why the fire was so stubborn.

"Get this. A few people in bright coloured costumes have been runnin' in and out of the buildings. They all saved a lot of people. We're grateful to'em. Startin' to think them Power Rangers made a comeback. Maybe that's why they're here; unexplainable stuff's happenin'," he whispered to her, "Just go home and get some sleep. I'll tell the boys 'hello' for ya."

Power Rangers and playing in the fire, so to speak. She knew where she had to be now. Ceres remembered what the Power Rangers stood for during their era as public heroes. She was a child then, yet it was all coming back to her now. They were out there and she needed to reach out to them.

"Thanks, Ramirez. Good luck with everything," she said with a smile, walking away from the crowd and onto her next destination.

The other Power Rangers, she would find them soon.

***

The raging inferno swept across this small patch of Angel Grove, leaving a glorious wake of destruction and pain. The very same man Ceres had met one week prior, the man who was concealed in his robes, smiled sadistically as he stood atop his vantage point on the rooftop of the Heaven's Way Hotel. This was the only place at the scene of the disaster untouched by the destructive embrace of the flames he had created.

His plan was coming to fruition even better than he had hoped. Since the anomaly he sensed a year and a half ago occurred, Azrael knew it was a matter of time before the maggots would wriggle their way to the surface in this rotting carcass of a city. He was fortunate to procure one of the morphers and taint it before he placed it into the hands of the device's chosen one. Ceres would hopefully prove useful to him, yet he had greater plans in store for her even if that particular scheme failed.

"Four rangers are out playing in the fire while two coins are still out seeking their hosts. The team is incomplete and still useless to me," hissed Azrael, crossing his arms. "It's a shame. I still have more to learn anyway. I also need them at their strongest before I can achieve my ends. Perhaps, I shall test them," he added, a hint of embarrassment dripping into the tone of his voice. Was he doing a monologue? Alone?

Azrael planted his stance firmly upon the rooftop, squaring his feet as far apart as his shoulders. He raised his arms above his head and channelled his demonic energy into the palms of his hands. He closed his eyes and vanished into thin air, laughing. It was that moment that the flames lifted from each and every building they were devouring. Wisps of the fires began to travel, unnaturally, through the air where they converged upon the rooftop. Azrael had conjured a lesser demon out of the flames that were terrorizing this district of the city. The flames took shape as a large, muscled, humanoid creature with no face. The beast stood at a height of a least twenty feet and let out a commanding roar to signify its presence.

***

Ryan found himself running toward the hotel as the flames were gathering. He drew in deep breaths as the scenery blurred around him. He _**knew**_ this was not a natural fire, or traditional arsonist. This fire, that he had spent the past few hours saving people from, was infused with a kind of raw malice that made him uneasy. He stopped and looked up at the building in the near distance as he heard the roar of the flame demon.

"Damn," he muttered, watching the creature disperse and lay siege upon the hotel. It was becoming swallowed up in the flames at an alarming rate. He could hear the moans and shrieks of innocent people dying from the violent conflagration ensuing upon the Heaven's Way Hotel. "I have to defeat this thing," he muttered, continuing his mad dash toward the hotel.

The firefighters had wasted no time in dispatching to the hotel and were waging an all out assault with water upon the building.

Ryan could hear the firefighters clamouring as they fought the unnatural flame.

"It's not good, we can't stop it!"

"We have to keep trying!"

An explosion gave way and what looked like hands had reached out of the flames to burn the life out of every firefighter that stood too close. The images of the charred corpses littering the pavement were disturbing as it was, yet several more explosions rocked the hotel and now charred bodies of guests as well as staff were flung from the windows. Each body made a sickening noise upon impact and the smell of burning flesh became pervasive.

Ryan wondered how many people were still alive as he boldly stormed through the main doors of the hotel. He couldn't think of that, he had to keep going. He didn't know that other Ranger's would be following soon after. He turned, hearing another person charge through the revolving door. It was another Power Ranger, a red one.

How could that be? He was told that his coin was the last.

"Hey!" called Milo, advancing toward Ryan, "You're another Power Ranger?"

"I—"

He was cut off from finishing his sentence by another Ranger entering the lobby. She was shorter and smaller than both of them. The Yellow and Red Ranger stood before him now. Ryan realized that they were both women, women that seemed to carry inexperience in their mannerisms. It was fortunate the helmet concealed the fact that his face was contorted with disgust and dismay. They must have become Rangers recently. He continued to stare dubiously at the others, only to have the screams of the people trapped in the fire break this awkward silence.

"Let's save the pleasantries for later!" he spat, turning away from them and running into the stairwell.

The stairwell was untouched by the flames until he and the others entered the stairwell. The creature knew of their arrival and war was coming. He could feel the temperature begin to rise and the flames seemed to spew into the staircase from every door and vent. With this heat, they wouldn't last long at this rate.

Milo and Naomi followed, silently, behind Ryan, both wondering what this creature was. They also wondered how it was causing the flames and heat to intensify. It felt like pure evil resided here and it made Milo quite uneasy. Naomi was also feeling her own doubts as this was her first time in her Ranger suit. She felt protected from the flames, yet there was still a great deal of pain and difficulty to breathe from the sheer heat. Naomi did take comfort in the presence of others, even though the Green one didn't seem to like either of them very much.

_**RANGERSSSSS! I CAN SSSSSMELL YOU! I WILL BURN ALL OF YOU INTO ASHESSSSS!**_

As they had ground to a halt, Naomi shrieked. Ryan slapped his palm over where his face would be.

"I'm sorry," Naomi uttered, laughing nervously. "People who draw out the 's' when they talk freak me out."

"Shut up, just shut up," growled Ryan, his words poisoned with disdain and arrogance. He began treading up the stairs, looking around.

_**ISSSSN'T IT FUNNY? ALL OF THE PEOPLE GATHERED ON THE TOP FLOOR INSSSSTEAD OF FLEEING! PANIC, IT MAKESSSS YOU HUMANSSSS SSSSO SSSSTUPID!**_

Naomi winced, not wanting to hear this thing speak to them anymore.

"Oh my god," gasped Milo, putting her hand up over her mouth...at least where it was without the helmet.

"Lambs to the slaughter," Ryan sighed, realizing that they might be too late to save anyone. "We have to keep going. We can't give up, you two! Come on!"

Without further delay, the Rangers began to run up the endless flights of stairs. They didn't know what awaited them at the top floor, but they had to try to save whoever was left alive. The creature that had destroyed so many lives on this night, it had to be destroyed.

The top floor of the Heaven's Way Hotel was now an image straight from the depths of hell itself. The flames licked and scorched the walls, peeling all of the paint away. The shimmering waves of heat in the air distorted everyone's vision and perception of the room. Burning timbers that were once support beams fell from the ceiling causing embers to scatter like fireflies upon impact. Ryan swallowed hard to see the charred corpses frozen in their final moments of writhing agony. There were no survivors.

_**RISSSSE MY CHILDREN! SSSSLAY THEM ALL!**_

A piece of the fire leapt into every charred corpse, causing them to ignite and reanimate as though it were a scene ripped right out of a horror movie. The burning zombies then growled: men, women, children, and firefighters alike.

Naomi whimpered, feeling compassion for the humans that these monsters used to be.

"They're gone now," Milo said to Naomi, feeling her voice ice over with resolve. "We have to get past them, the stairway that leads to the rooftop is at the end of this hallway," she concluded, feeling her fists clench. No one could see her from behind the visor, yes, nobody could see the silent tears running down her face. In Milo's eyes, this was the real reason Power Rangers hid their faces.

The zombies were advancing, yet all of them were hesitating. Even Ryan couldn't bring himself to strike down the reanimated corpses of the people he had failed to save.

Yet, she could.

A blue blur moved past the three rangers. Ceres, looking large and athletic, was now cutting the zombies down without discrimination. As she spun gracefully, she swung the Power Lance with the utmost ferocity. The blue halberd, with blades on both ends, continued to slice every limb it touched and impaled what Ceres jammed the weapon into. Her muscles rippled beneath the form fitting costume much like a wild cat's sinewy muscles as it maimed its prey.

Ryan scoffed, another woman wanting to play Ranger. His lip pursed, he was becoming fed up with these unworthy losers running around and trying to play hero in their bright coloured outfits.

"She cleared the way for us! Get moving!" he demanded, deciding to momentarily dismiss his disdain for the harem that surrounded him.

Ryan ran past the women and they ran behind him toward the end of the corridor. Ceres immediately decided that there was something about this Green Ranger that rubbed her the wrong way. Meanwhile, Naomi and Milo were wondering exactly who this woman was that could be so cold in the line of duty. In many ways, they both admired her and felt slight pangs of envy.

The rooftop of the hotel was eerie and silent. The four of them stood, looking around for any sign of something. There was nothing here at all. Little did they know, the fire in the hotel was going out and every piece of the fire demon was converging into a single entity once again. In fact, the creature was now ascending toward them...level by level.

"Be on your guard if you won't want to be killed," Ryan hissed, taking his blaster from the holster.

"Yeah, whatever kid. I don't take orders from someone whose balls haven't dropped yet," spat Ceres, coiling her fingers around the lance tightly.

Naomi and Milo giggled, while trying to maintain their guard as well.

"You know you can talk the ta—" his sentence went unfinished as the center of the rooftop became red hot and the demon erupted through the roof, spewing molten chunks of concrete and tar into every direction.

The demon's power had grown. The entity appeared less human and more leonine. The creature roared as the beast's upper body was all that protruded from the rooftop. The sheer arm span was massive and could reach anywhere on the rooftop. The four rangers stood before it akin to four mice staring into the eyes of a large cat.

"How are we going to beat this thing?!" exclaimed Naomi, in the form of a question. Her voice was clearly dripping with worry.

Ceres wasted no time and charged at the creature with the war cry of an amazon. When she exerted all of herself into her lunge with the Power Lance, she went straight through the beast and came out of the other side sprawling upon the floor from not predicting where she would land.

"Huh?" she stammered, "No Body?"

The demon turned around to face her and placed its palm down upon her before she could even get away. The hand comprised of flame was held over her as she lay crumpled upon the roof, feeling the heat licking at her body. The suit protected her from the burns, yet the searing pain of the heat tore through every fibre of her existence.

"Oh no!" cried Milo, frantically taking shots at the monster with her blaster. The red beams of energy went right through the creature with no result whatsoever.

The monster sent off a shockwave of heat, knocking the other three Rangers to the ground. Naomi was slammed into a wall close to the doorway. She felt her vision go black for a split second, everything ached now. Here she was, the Yellow Ranger, a failure. She looked up into the sky, fearing the end, until something caught her eye.

Ceres took every ounce of restraint to keep from screaming. The suit protected her body from damage, but the pain was still there. How could she have been so desensitized to the casualties tonight? In the mind of this cynical woman of twenty six, feeling the pain that the victims felt was her penance. It was only a matter of time before the suit's power would give out. What then? She would be scorched like the corpses littering this hotel. Was this the end? She couldn't even move away from the danger.

Ryan stood motionless, trying to think of something to stop this. Sure, he hated the present company; however, he didn't want another death on his hands.

"Hey Blue!" he called out, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Hold tight and I'll distract him!"

The youth in green charged at the beast, firing green blasts of energy from his gun as he ran. Each beam fired through the creature. Yet, he could swear that something did connect. The demeanour of beast changed as it roared and moved the other hand over Ryan as it was doing to Ceres. Now, two of the Rangers were pinned, feeling the intense and immobilizing heat upon them.

"Red," muttered Naomi, he voice was weak and her consciousness was fading fast. "Get ready," she whispered, firing her blaster right into the water tower above. The yellow beam pierced at the correct trajectory. As a result, the pressurized spray of water fired directly into the beast. Naomi fell limp and crumpled onto the ground, she had passed out.

Milo smiled behind the visor, seeing the weak point on her foe. There was a pulsing orb, glowing and crimson, manipulating the flame.

"Thanks, Yellow," chuckled Milo, materializing a long sword into her hands. The sword had a red hilt and decorative trimming. It was the Power Sword. She had no idea how it came out of thin air, but, far be it from her to object to using it.

As she leapt into the air, Milo let out her own war cry, slicing the blade cleanly through the throbbing core. The core slid apart into two halves and then disintegrated, causing the flames to disperse. When she landed softly on her feet, the sword dematerialized. It seemed the suit would react according to her will when she needed something. That was useful knowledge. She was about to make sure the Green and Blue Rangers were still alive until she saw both of them stand up. Milo knew she wasn't ready for introductions, not yet. So she ran, full speed, towards the ledge and took a leap of faith, vanishing into the darkness.

"Bye, Red!" yelled Ceres, smiling gratefully behind the visor. "We can exchange numbers later," she chuckled, her voice becoming more jovial with the defeat of the creature.

"You," growled Ryan, slowly advancing toward her. "Your recklessness almost got all of us killed!"

In truth, he had felt like he failed. Yet, it seemed easier to shift the blame onto the others.

"Ugh," she scoffed. "Go take a flying leap," her tone was pervasive with apathy and disgust for the cocky teenager.

"Fine," he spat, angrily. "Just know that you are unfit for the powers you wield," his venomous words, intended to sting her.

"Yeah," replied Ceres, clenching her fists. "What makes you so damn special, huh?"

Ryan shook his head and leapt from the ledge, in the same manner as Milo. Ceres groaned with frustration and immediately turned her attention to the Yellow Ranger, lying on the ground, unconscious.

**End of Chapter One **


	3. Carnage with your coffee?

**Chapter Two: Carnage with your coffee?**

**The next morning....**

Naomi could feel her eyes open reluctantly as the golden rays of sunlight seemed to pry them open. She felt sore through all of her joints and muscles, as if a truck had hit her last night. Yet, that was not the case. The last thing she had remembered was fighting a monster that seemed as though it were composed of fire itself. Before falling unconscious, Naomi had pierced a water tower that shifted the tides of the battle. After that, she couldn't remember a thing. Her hands immediately rushed from underneath the blanket to touch her face. She gasped as she felt her own skin. The young Yellow Ranger was no longer morphed and she began to worry that someone had seen her. Her eyes widened. This was not her living room. Naomi bolted upright and the comforter slowly fell down around her waist. Strands of brown fair fell haphazardly around her shoulders and she looked down at herself, she still had her clothes on at least. A number of anxieties raced through the young woman's mind: Who discovered her? Did anyone see her change back? Where was she? What smelled so good?

Naomi rubbed the crusty flakes of sleep from her eyes. She turned her head and looked toward the kitchen area over the back of the black leather chesterfield that partitioned the two areas. The young woman of eighteen couldn't help but stare at the woman, who was obviously a few years older than her, cooking something at the stove. After all, she had no idea how much this hostess knew about her. She felt apprehensive as waves of silent panic rolled over her.

"Good morning," Ceres called out, smiling as she stood in the kitchen making breakfast. Her words struck silence into Naomi's mind and she could see the panic in Naomi's eyes since the living room was in plain sight from stove in her little condominium. The woman in the kitchen smiled curtly and asked, "How do you like your eggs?"

Naomi noticed that this woman stood at an impressive and daunting height compared to her. She noticed more details about the woman in the kitchen and began to take in her appearance: a green t-shirt with no design, blue jeans, black socks, and flowing blonde hair tied back tightly with a clear hair elastic. Naomi swallowed hard when she saw the woman's muscles ripple from simply manipulating the skillet and spatula.

"Xena: Warrior Princess," she blurted, flushing with embarrassment as she quickly recovered to answer the question, "scrambled, I mean."

Ceres chuckled, breaking two eggs into a bowl as she began to beat them with a whisk. "Well, Lucy Lawless is naturally a blonde," added Ceres, laughing heartily.

"Oh," replied Naomi, leaning back into the couch. She felt some relief now. Maybe this woman found her un-morphed and carried her to safety like the kind person she seemed to be. Her head still hurt from being tossed into the brick wall on that rooftop last night. Wait, how would a passerby find her on the rooftop of a burning building?

"My name is Ceres, by the way," said the woman in the kitchen, narrowing her eyes, preparing to take on a more serious tone, "and I am very interested to know a little more about the Yellow Ranger sitting on my couch."

She could now feel her heart pound within her chest with immense force and she could barely breathe. Naomi frantically reached for her morpher, unable to find it. Did this woman steal it from her? She cocked her eyebrow as Ceres silently gestured to the end table, adjacent to where Naomi's head was resting. When she turned around she couldn't help but flush a little, her morpher was sitting right there. She began to realize that Ceres had a frightening attention to detail.

"I couldn't help but look at it," admitted Ceres, dishing out the scrambled eggs, "it's a little different from mine," she concluded, walking into the little nook directly behind the couch with the plates in hand. Ceres rested the plates on the little dining table and smiled warmly at Naomi.

Naomi paused and then stood up. As she manoeuvred around the couch and into the dining nook, she now felt more curious about this other Power Ranger than worried.

"Please," Naomi began, sitting down at the table, "tell me everything you know."

***

"_Though the massive fires that tore through a great deal Angel Grove's inner city have been quelled, there have been many casualties in this disaster. At least 60 are dead and over 200 injured as the health care facilities are overwhelmed. The source of the blaze is currently under investigation,"_ proclaimed the electronic voice of a man in his late twenties, via the radio on the counter.

Milo's brow furrowed as she wiped the counter. The worse the news, the harder she seemed to scrub. It was bad enough that they were nearly powerless to end that nightmare. She did not need to be reminded of the fallen and injured that she felt as though they had all failed.

"_In other news, the Power Rangers have been spotted aiding people throughout the whole fire ordeal and have been seen, allegedly, battling a flame monster atop the Heaven's Way Hotel. Not much more is known on this and footage of last night's incident seems to keep flooding into our local network's mail box as well as sprouting up over the internet. That is all for the news every hour on the hour. It is now 10:05 and beautiful sunny morning here in Angel Grove. The temperature is presently 85 degrees and climbing. We will return with another newscast at 11:00,"_ said the broadcaster, with finality. The radio then played an assortment of easy rock music coupled with a plethora of advertisements.

The young woman wearing the black uniform and apron, with her raven hair tied back into a bun, stood for a moment, clenching her wash rag tightly between her fingers. She couldn't help but feel some form of anxiety. Not only was she an amateur Ranger, people were watching her with expectation. Her brown eyes softened when the chimes above the door frame rattled, a new customer. It was Ceres and a younger girl following close behind.

"Milo," Ceres started, smiling fondly, "you look well today," she finished, leaning over the countertop in the diner with blue walls and making direct eye contact with Milo.

"I suppose," replied Milo, smiling at the usual customer, "considering the night we had in my neighbourhood last night. I live fairly close to where those fires happened."

Ceres took all of this in while sitting down upon one of the bar stools across from the waitress behind the counter. Her silver eyes fixed upon Milo who actually looked a bit worn, almost a little too worn to just be a bystander.

"You don't say," replied Ceres, analysing the young woman's body language. "Did you help evacuate your building then?"

Naomi sat down beside Ceres, picking up on the subtle interrogation conducted by her new friend. Was she on to something? This young waitress seemed rather friendly. In fact, this Milo and Ceres seemed to know each other well enough.

"No," lied Milo, laying out a coffee mug in front of Ceres from a shelf underneath the bar, "I just watched," she added, before turning around to grab one of the coffee pots.

"I see," said Ceres, watching Milo pour the coffee into her cup. Her young waitress friend was lying, yet it wasn't as though she started the damn fires. Ceres decided to dismiss her suspicions.

"Excuse me, Miss?" asked Naomi, seeing now that the conversation was winding up.

"Yes," replied Milo, smiling at this girl's near perfect manners.

"I was here last night, eating dinner, well not quite actually. However, I left in a hurry and I forgot my black school bag. I was hoping it was still here as it has some pretty expensive things," said Naomi, flushing a little. She spoke English rather fluently, even without an accent, yet her dialect seemed unnatural and did not flow well. Maybe, if she watched a little more television she'd speak more of the slang here in America.

"Hm," Milo paused, putting the index finger of her right hand upon her chin. "I think I saw it when I opened this morning," she added, bending down to the 'lost and found' box right at her feet. She grabbed the black school bag and lifted it up to the counter in front of Naomi. "This it?"

Naomi's eyes widened with delight as she nodded. "Thank you very much!"

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" asked Milo, grinning at this young girl, wearing blue jeans and a yellow t-shirt, who was as cute as a button.

"Um," Naomi paused, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought about the question. "I would like a Coca-Cola, please."

"We only serve Pepsi here, is that all right?" asked Milo.

"Okay," said Naomi, feeling somewhat disappointed. She had never tried 'Pepsi' before and watched Milo disappear into the back. "She is very nice, but her voice is also familiar," said Naomi, now looking to Ceres.

"Yeah," agreed Ceres, sipping her black coffee. There was more to Milo than met the eye and it was something she would have definitely overlooked under other circumstances.

Without further delay, the ground began to tremble and all of the plates rattled furiously. Naomi shrieked and Ceres leapt back from the bar stool as the searing hot coffee spilled all over the place. Before Ceres could react any further, the trembling stopped.

"I hate California," grumbled Ceres, advancing back to the bar and leaning over it. "Everyone okay in there?" she called out, peering into the back room.

"We're fine back here!" Milo yelled back in response, she came out with Naomi's soft drink and a rag to wipe up the coffee that had spilt. "There were a couple small quakes this morning too," she stated, beginning to clean up the coffee.

"Does this happen frequently?" Naomi asked, amazed that everyone else seemed so unaffected by the quake.

***

When the diner trembled with the small quake, he set his fork down onto his plate of waffles and held the plate down with both hands. Once the rumbling stopped, he shook his head. The young man then released his grip on the plate and picked his fork up to resume feasting on his breakfast. He had noticed the two women that came in a moment ago, they were hot. Was he going to go up and talk to them? Not likely. It wasn't that he was nervous. No, Virgil Cross had other things on his mind.

He scratched the top of his head, slightly tousling the shaggy brown locks of hair. Jesus, it was getting long. Did he need another haircut? Virgil's brown eyes fixed upon the coffee mug as his mind suddenly transitioned to another thought. It had been six months since his life had changed and now Power Rangers were suddenly popping up out of nowhere. With the advent of the fires last night, three new Power Rangers emerged from what he saw of the footage that found its way onto the internet. He knew of the vigilante Green Ranger, yet never encountered him.

Strangely enough, Virgil was occasionally pursued by this freak in black robes ever since the Mastodon Power Coin chose him on that fated day. It was half a year ago when Virgil was walking home from the pub after a night out with some buddies. He may have been a little tipsy, yet what happened to him was very real. A black light shone on the ground, within his peripheral vision. When he looked down to the sidewalk that was littered with gum wrappers and cigarette butts, he saw it: a strange silver device with a mastodon embedded into a golden coin at the device's center.

Virgil found himself back at the table, continuing to silently reminisce and summarize that night in his mind. However, the girls over had the counter were laughing about something and the sudden noise had rocked him right out of his reverie. The young man began to open and close his hands, causing the muscles to ripple straight up his arms and into his grey t-shirt. Virgil stood up from the table and proceeded toward the men's room. His height was around the average for a grown man, but it didn't stop Virgil from walking with confidence. Virgil noticed that Milo's eyes met his, but had no idea she was admiring the muscles that moved beneath the layers of cotton and denim that concealed them. He smiled and continued on his way. His mind immediately jumped back to the happenings six months ago.

It was also then that the mystery man in the robe appeared before him, demanding the Mastodon coin and morpher. Virgil immediately ran away from the man, sensing his malicious undercurrent. Unfortunately, when Virgil found himself at a dead end, one of this man's conjurations was already waiting for him. The morpher in Virgil's hand did resonate with him at first, but something else had happened. A strange belt with an empty slot had materialized itself upon Virgil's waist and a large beetle, white and robotic, began to fly around him. With that, he put the morpher in his pocket and grabbed the beetle. Virgil could still, vividly, remember how right it felt to take hold of that white beetle, the Lespid Beetle.

For Virgil that fight had ended with one word: 'Henshin!'

***

Azrael stood upon the rooftop of the diner, sensing the energy of the Tyrannosaurus Rex, Triceratops, Sabre-Tooth Tiger, and Mastodon coins. His black robe billowed in the gentle wind and he crossed his arms, pondering what to do. He knew that a lot of them were together, yet they didn't know they were among comrades. He smiled beneath the hood of his robe. Perhaps, causing a ruckus would bring the team closer together. Yet, as far as he was concerned, that Mastodon coin was in the wrong hands.

"Virgil," Azrael chuckled malevolently, "You cannot have your cake and eat it too. You will have to choose your power eventually. The Mastodon coin needs to be in the hands of its rightful host in order for my plan to come to fruition."

A dark and joyous expression flickered across his hidden features. It seemed as though he'd figured it out right then and there.

"I'll rip that power right out of him, both powers."

It was settled in his mind. He was still depleted from conjuring that fire beast from the night before, yet using the last bit of strength he could muster would prove rewarding. Especially if he could at least weaken Virgil enough to get that morpher away from him and into the hands of a real host.

"Hear me now, demons of the underworld," he chanted, preparing to invoke Angel Grove's latest terroriser. With nearly his last bit of strength, Azrael drew his right arm back and tightened his hand into a fist, pulsing a malevolently shaded violet electricity through it. "I, Azrael, agent of the darkness, call upon you in order to take form upon this plane and serve me."

When the electric pulse through his fist became a solid aura, it meant that the soul had been successfully summoned. Azrael smiled demonically, feeling the power in his fist, what he summoned was a fiend of the Earth. This creature was stronger than the one that the Rangers had battled with last night. Either it would bring them closer to the level of power he needed, or it would kill them all. Azrael threw his right arm forward, his black robes billowing around him like wisps of smoke, and the violet lightning struck upon the pavement. As the pieces of asphalt rose and fell where the lightning hit, the violet orb crept into the ground and caused it to tremble fiercely.

"Rise Golem, take form and destroy the Rangers!" cried Azrael, especially hoping that this beast would crush Virgil. Although, he'd take matters in to his own hands when his powers returned to him, if all else failed. Azrael's power mysteriously depleted with the anomaly of the new power coins forming all those months ago. Yet, as the Power Rangers emerged, he began to feel his power return to him. In truth, the immortal saw this as a beacon and felt all the more drawn to this energy. "I will watch from afar, now fight and make your master happy!" he called out, slowly disappearing while laughing cruelly.

***

Ceres, Naomi, and Milo's conversation came to another abrupt end when the ground began to shake once again. Strangely enough, the quake felt entirely different this time and the violet flash of light confirmed their suspicions. Milo swallowed hard, wondering what kind of unnatural thing would happen this time. She also wondered how she would morph in front of her friends without giving herself away.

Ceres moved toward the window, she saw the asphalt and felt a ring of pain cry throughout her very soul. Why did she suddenly feel this way? And what kind of force was at play here? Her eyes widened when what happened next put an end to all thoughts. She heard a demonic roar, everyone did. With that roar, a large humanoid creature comprised of stone armour and a clay under body rose from the disruption in the asphalt.

Naomi ran to the window to see what made Ceres solemn and still. She wished she'd never looked. It was nine feet tall and bulky. What was this thing? A professional wrestler made of rocks and clay?

"I can't believe we have to fight that thing!" Naomi blurted, suddenly gasping and covering her mouth. What had she done? Blown her cover so early into her Ranger career? She suddenly flushed, feeling like a fool.

"W-what do you mean by that?" Milo stammered, unsure of what exactly Naomi was getting at when she said she was going to 'fight' that thing.

"Evacuate the kitchen staff, Milo. You'll understand soon enough," said Ceres, showing no change in her demeanour as she watched the creature move through the street. The monster coiled back and smashed its fist through the grill of a car that was desperately trying to stop before colliding with it.

Milo nodded, right before running into the kitchen. Everyone had already run out the back before she came to say anything. She scoffed, feeling that they were cowards for running out before seeing that everyone was okay in the front. Milo also felt slightly inferior that she was not more assertive in a time of crisis like this. There was nothing that could be helped at this point. When she came out to the front she watched Ceres flip the open sign to 'closed' in the window. Ceres turned around to face her while Naomi was already standing and smiling warmly at her.

"The shop is now closed. I hope we're all on the same wavelength here," Milo said flatly, the cacophony of screams and twisted metal providing an eerie symphony beyond the walls of this building.

Ceres smirked and swiftly drew out the Triceratops morhper from her belt buckle. "Oh, I think we are," she said smugly, tightening her grip upon the device and feeling the power begin to surge into her body.

Naomi nodded, pulling the Sabre-Tooth Tiger morpher from her belt as well. Just like Ceres, she could feel the power of her coin seeping into her.

"Wow," Milo uttered, in full disbelief, withdrawing the Tyrannosaurus Rex morpher from the front pocket of her apron. "We're all Power Rangers. I didn't realize it before, but now it makes sense. I kind of recognized Ceres' voice from last night."

"We recognized your voice from last night too," stated Naomi, having an upbeat and perky tone in her voice.

The three women now knew of each other's identity. They were all Power Rangers and, together, they would work toward becoming a stronger team. Everything was suddenly looking up, even in the midst of a rock monster's rampage outside.

"Tyrannosaurus Rex!" cried Milo, feeling the warm ribbons of red light embrace and caress her. The silken textured, yet ever durable, fabric materialized upon her body. There was something strangely sensual about transforming into a Power Ranger for her. Perhaps it was the sensation of being stripped down to nothing and then redefined as a new entity, great and powerful. The Red Ranger stood in Milo's place as she looked to the others, smiled behind her visor, and said, "It's your turn now."

"Sabre-toothed Tiger!" exclaimed Naomi, her voice shrill but powerful. The electric ecstasy of raw power ignited her senses as the yellow light took hold of her. The process of transforming was a high that never lost its edge: the perfect drug. The old Naomi felt mousy and insignificant; however, the new Naomi was the Yellow Ranger and a force of nature compacted into her tiny frame. She liked what she had become and never wanted it any other way.

"Triceratops!" roared Ceres, her eyes burning ardently. She felt a frosty chill tantalize her body as the blue light shone brightly, becoming one with her. The energy that pulsed through her body was incredible and morphing, for her, was quite titillating.

"Let's not keep our date waiting now," uttered Milo, moving to the door and stepping outside, her voice sultry and playful.

"I always liked a nice, rock hard, body," replied Ceres, following the Red Ranger, mirroring Milo's tone.

"I am led to believe that these jokes are sexual in nature," Naomi said in a flat tone, following the other two out of the cafe.

The people had all fled in terror now, yet the golem was still amusing itself by lobbing cars through all of the display windows of the nearby stores. Once it had finished with its latest car, the golem immediately noticed the Red, Yellow, and Blue Ranger on the street. The creature felt its greatest impulse surge within, destroy the Power Rangers. It roared ferociously, unleashing its war cry. The ground shook as the creature ran toward them with the mass of tank and the velocity of a track athlete.

The three women in Ranger outfits opened fire on the monster with their blasters, each shot, marked by one of the primary colours, rolled off of the beast with futility. It drew nearer and they couldn't get through the thick stone armour protecting it. Ceres swallowed hard as the beast drew in proximity to her, cocked his arm back, and struck her midsection fiercely. Pain raged through each and every sense as she flew through the window of the cafe. The woman groaned as she rolled across the floor and came to a stop when she hit the bar stools. As she looked up, she saw a teenage boy sitting in the chair and drinking a cup of coffee. His shaggy and tawny hair reflected in the sun like a halo of fire as he sat, unmoved by the two Rangers fighting the golem in the backdrop behind him and Ceres.

"Mmm," said Ryan, staring at his coffee cup. "I couldn't help but notice the poor quality of this coffee."

His fierce eyes, brown in colour, locked upon the fallen Blue Ranger. He licked his lips, eager to finish his statement and smiled wickedly at her as he said, "You see, it looks like good coffee and smells like good coffee. However, it doesn't taste like good coffee. It's kind of like the new Power Rangers," he laughed cruelly and continued, "they look like the old Power Rangers yet, in the end, they are nothing more than an imitation brand. You're like bad coffee."

The enraged Blue Ranger stood up, brushing off the broken glass that glittered like diamonds as they fell to the floor and made a noise akin to a maraca being shaken. She recognized his voice, he didn't need to disclose his identity at all. It was the asshole of a Green Ranger from last night. He must have came into the cafe from the back, or watched them transform. How did he know where to come? What was his problem? And bad coffee? Seriously?

"Bad coffee, huh?" Ceres asked, walking toward the little punk in his chair. "Connoisseur or misogynist," she spat viciously, batting the cup in his hand and causing the hot coffee to spill between his thighs.

As she leapt through the window, she couldn't help but laugh when Ryan yelped as the scalding hot coffee landed where it did. He wasn't so tough anymore and that was the satisfaction of it all, bringing him down a notch. Her attention shifted back to Naomi and Milo, who were working to avoid the golem's attacks and their firearms were slowly whittling away at the creature's armour. How on Earth were they ever going to beat that thing? Her thoughts were cut short when both Naomi and Milo landed at her feet. This thing was tough and it looked like they were fighting a losing battle.

"We're not hurting it," protested Naomi, standing up and clutching her sides.

"As least the suits are protecting us," replied Milo, standing up in unison with her Yellow comrade. "We'd be dead otherwise."

"I have no idea what to do," Ceres added, suddenly realizing that their power was not enough. Perhaps, spilling hot coffee on the experienced Ranger's groin was a bad idea after all.

**End of Chapter Two**


	4. Henshin!

_**Foreword:**__ Hey everyone, I just wanted to thank you all for reading my fiction. I also wanted to thank __liron-aria__ for my very first review. It was a very kind and inspirational review. It's that kind of feedback that really gets a writer going! Keep on reading, hopefully your questions will get answered. Anyway, I hate cliffhangers with a burning passion! Therefore, I worked really hard to get this up to resolve the tension built up from the last chapter. Pardon the fact that it is a bit short._

**Chapter Three: Henshin!**

The glass door of the cafe swung out as he stepped out onto the street, in a cavalier fashion, catching everyone's eye. Ceres had wondered, until she saw the man, if the obnoxious Green Ranger was coming out to give them a hand with this rock creature after all. Who was this guy? Naomi became worried that it was an innocent bystander about to get caught up in their fight. After the previous night, she just didn't think her heart could take another casualty. Milo couldn't believe it, it was the customer from earlier on. She had forgotten about him and now realized that he was in the washroom this whole time. Does that mean he had heard or seen them transform into the Power Rangers? The golem advanced slowly, toying with the three women. It too grew curious of this joining party to the fiasco upon this desecrated street.

"Get out of here!" exclaimed Ceres, her jaw tightening with apprehension and anger. Was this man an idiot? "You're gonna end up dead."

Virgil continued to walk toward the group, unmoved by her words. His steps echoed upon the eerily silent street and the beating of a robotic beetles wings began to pervade through the deafening silence. The palm sized metallic creature buzzed around him several times as an electronically enhanced belt, with what looked like an empty slot, materialized upon his waist.

"Not likely," he grunted, his voice was steady, as a testament to his calm demeanor, and an octave lower than his usual inflection. The white beetle landed in the palm of his right hand and his chestnut eyes fixed upon the golem. He had now stopped walking toward them and remained completely still.

Virgil raised the white beetle high above his head and cried, "Henshin!"

In a swift motion, he brought his right hand down to his side and slid it into the latch of his belt buckle. The device connected with a soft 'click'. An electronic voice boomed from the device: _**Henshin**_. The young man clenched his jaw tightly while a surge of white electricity crackled upon his form, filling his body with energy. He growled fiercely, his voice echoed as it distorted with raw power, and he clenched his hands into fists as he bent his elbows and tensed his arms. As quickly as the Lespid beetle connected to Virgil's belt, a black techno-organic material crept over his body to represent the initial layer of his armor. Heavy pieces of white armor formed over his torso, forearms, biceps, and shoulders. The helmet was round and the visor flashed with a red glow. When all of the armor sealed upon his body, a powerful shockwave exuded from him.

Kamen Rider Lespid stood proudly in his masked form as the shockwave pushed on the Rangers and nearly sent them off balance. The women regained their footing and couldn't believe what they were seeing. Ceres stared at the white apparition before her. Who was this person and what the hell was a Henshin?

"Are you here to help us?" asked Milo, unsure of what the man before her had become. "Are you a Power Ranger too?"

"I am not a Power Ranger," replied Virgil, his tone was flat and final. He looked to the women and the golem that was still and observing him. The creature roared upon making eye contact with him. It was preparing to charge. "Come on," he called out, his visor flashing red with those words.

As the large creature charged upon the White Rider, Naomi gasped in horror as she feared for the worst. However, the golem was sent rearing back when a fierce uppercut had been delivered. Fragments of stone broke away and clattered upon the fractured pavement. Virgil wasted no time to follow up with a roundhouse kick to the monster's torso. As the right foot made a jarring impact against its target, more pieces of stone fell to the ground. The exterior of the golem was beginning to fall away, like a broken mosaic. The young man smiled behind his visor. That was the way.

"He's tough," admitted Ceres, speaking to both Naomi and Milo. This stranger just showed up at random and began to pulverize an enemy that was about to make short work out of them. It made her realize the true limitations of their power.

"How is he doing that?" Naomi asked, watching Virgil smash pieces of rock away from the golem with each blow. "Is his suit made out of something stronger? It does not make any sense. Should we help him?"

"No," replied Milo, staring with equal fascination. It was hard to believe that this cute guy ended up showing up to save them in the end. Whatever power he had, he knew how to use it. That seemed to be more than any of them could say about their own gifts. "He looks like he has everything under control right now."

The golem roared furiously as it raised its fists high in the air and smashed them towards Virgil. The young man leapt back as the fists crashed into the ground with immense force. Shards of black asphalt flew into every direction. Virgil stomped onto one of the golem's fists and then sent the other foot directly into its chest, sending it sprawling on its back. He stood triumphantly, amused with how the mighty golem had fallen under his own might. Upon further examination of the creature, he noticed that there wasn't much stone armor left on the creature at all. It was now a large mass of walking clay. Right now, the golem was vulnerable.

As the creature rose to its feet, Virgil now noticed how much quicker the golem was. When the creature landed a blow upon his torso and sent him staggering back, he realized it was faster than him right now. That would not do at all. As he regained his footing, his right hand went to the lever at his belt that was once the horn of the white Lespid Beetle. It had already released slightly, causing his armor to slightly open like an exoskeleton and quickly release steam into the air. His belt began to crackle with white electricity as he grabbed the lever and pulled it the rest of the way from which it had begun. The lever clicked and Virgil cried out, "Cast off!"

_**Cast off.**_

Pieces of Lespid's armor jettisoned away from his body and some of the pieces crashed directly into what was left of the golem's stone armor, effectively destroying it. The golem staggered back as the pieces of armor had disintegrated upon impact. Beneath the exoskeleton of armor there was Lespid's true form, the Rider Form. His torso still had white armor beneath the thick armor his masked form provided; however, it appeared to be a much lighter variation of armor. The helmet ejecting its external pieces revealed a less fortified helmet with a three pronged horns protruding from the back of it. From between his chin and the cleft groove in his chest plate, the large two pronged horn raised up and clicked upon his forehead. As the horn now divided the uniform visor in twain, the eyes of Lespid flashed with a menacing hue of crimson. The electronic voice boomed once more, "_**Change Lespid Beetle**_."

The creature roared in agony, becoming furious with this opponent making short work out of it. The monster swung its left arm, in desperation, towards Virgil. In the blink of an eye, Virgil was standing behind the creature. The casting off of his heavy armor had now endowed him with magnificent speed and grace.

"How did he get so fast?" Ceres wondered aloud, crossing her arms to display her annoyance with their lack of involvement.

"I think it is because his power exists on two different planes," Naomi explained while she observed the battle ensuing between the Rider and the golem. "He is now vastly quicker without that armor. Perhaps, he would be vulnerable to getting hit now."

Milo gazed, through her visor, to Naomi and found herself impressed with Naomi's ability to observe battles. That was the cornerstone of a great strategist. Ceres was the muscle, Naomi was the brain, The Green Ranger was the experienced member, and she could not feel her own presence or placement with the team. Milo, the Red Ranger, was supposed to be the leader of the team. How could she ever become a strong leader when people were always taking that away from her? If it wasn't the Green Ranger acting like an entitled dirt bag, it was a mysterious and attractive man showing up to effortlessly dispatch an enemy that they could not.

"You have good insight, Naomi," Milo began, carrying a tone of sincere praise, "I wouldn't have been able to kill that fire monster without you last night," she added, now turning her attention to Ceres, "I'm sure we would have found a weakness for this monster too, but an ally is willing to give us the strength to fight another time by taking on that burden," she concluded, feeling the resolve in her voice. There, nice and leader-like. This was something she'd get the hang of eventually.

A barrage of kicks and punches were sent into the golem while it could not lay a hit upon Virgil. This creature had become weak and overwhelmed from Virgil's assault. It was time to end it now. His thumb dashed across the buttons atop the belt buckle that made him into Kamen Rider Lespid as the electronic voice boomed, "_**One, two, three**_". Virgil's hand fell atop the lever as he whispered, "Rider Kick," pulling it the rest of the way while white electricity crackled around him. "_**Rider Kick**_."

The horn protruding from his forehead, as it charged, began to shine with a radiant white glow that was almost blinding as it refracted upon completely charging. The gathered white energy moved down from his horn to his right foot. Virgil pivoted on the ball of his left foot, raised his right foot above his head, and fiercely drove his right ankle down into the golem's clay forehead. As his foot drove through the golem's body, a flash of white light exploded out from him and small pieces of rocks scattered into every direction. When the explosion of light subsided, the golem was no more and the purple mist that was his soul dispersed into complete oblivion. The only thing that remained was none other than Kamen Rider Lespid, facing the three Power Rangers that bore witness to what had just transpired. Virgil turned his back to the group of women and turned his head to the right, looking at them through his peripheral vision. The eyes of his suit flashed red and he began to walk away from them.

"Hey!" exclaimed Ceres, giving chase to the Kamen Rider that disappeared into the shadows between two of the buildings. "You're obviously on our side, where are you going?"

Milo and Naomi followed their blue companion into the dark alley. It made sense to Milo that this mysterious person was making himself scarce, the monster was destroyed and the police would surely be on their way. It was time for all Rangers and other things to disappear for now.

"Wait!" exclaimed Milo, coming to a stop when her voice had stopped Ceres. The three women were out of sight from the public eye now. "Let him go, we'll see him again."

Virgil stopped and turned to face the women who were pursuing him. He had heard their voices and saw the flashes of light beneath the door when they transformed in the cafe. The young man knew who they were. In time, they would know who he was too. He only interfered because their lives were in danger. Azrael summoned something powerful this time and even though he did not show it, he was absolutely exhausted. Without further delay, he said with finality, "I will reveal my name to you all when I am good and ready, goodbye for now," as he finished speaking, he turned away from them and continued to walk away until out of sight.

In a flash of red, yellow, and blue, the women now stood in their regular clothing. They had reverted and put their morphers away. There was no point in remaining as they were, the fight was over for now. This benevolent and mysterious stranger had saved their lives. Perhaps, they'd get to know the person behind the visor. It seemed strange how allies seemed to be right under their noses. Ceres, Naomi, and Milo had now developed rapport with one another. The only obstacles now were to find the other two Rangers out there, make peace with the Green Ranger that had no respect for them, and now get to know this mysterious Kamen Rider.

"Well," sighed Milo, putting each hand on Ceres' and Naomi's shoulder. "Let's go back to the cafe, lunch is on me."


	5. City of Ghosts

_**Author's note:**__ As we move through this story together, I feel the need to clarify this. This story takes place in an alternate universe where the Power Rangers ceased to exist in 1996. This story takes place in the year 2011. That means that Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers had a much darker and more violent ending in my world. Stay tuned._

**Chapter 4: City of Ghosts**

**1 month later**

The ringing of the bell not only marked the end of the school day, it served to tear Ryan away from his slumber. He jerked awake, feeling the faint trail of drool upon the corner of his mouth. What did he miss? How long was he asleep? The young man's eyes darted around the room as his heart rate regulated, he never took kindly to being startled. He was a junior at Angel Grove High School and he hated it with a passion. Half the time, he was always falling asleep due to his all nighttime patrols as the Green Ranger. Public education was not a place that he belonged in and he only put in the necessary effort to pass. Ryan grabbed his binder that merely served as a pillow and made his way out of the classroom, his locker awaited.

As he advanced down the hallway, his shoulder bumped into an over muscled jock that was, as far as Ryan was concerned, nameless and faceless. Unfortunately, the blonde man before Ryan did, indeed, have a name. The senior was the quarterback on the High School Football team and the bully that roamed the halls: Remus Freyja. The slender youth felt the air knock out of him, slightly. The person he bumped into looked at him with cruel reproach and said, "Watch where you're going, faggot."

_Imbeciles_, Ryan thought, hearing his inner monologue hiss with disdain while he continued on toward his locker. He was the Green Ranger, he kept their streets safe, and here, in the halls of this school, he was nothing. With a few strategic turns of the dial, he unlocked his locker and dumped a couple of random binders into his school bag. It would look like he actually had homework to do this way.

"Ryan, hi!" a shrill voice startled him, he closed his locker and saw who it was. It was Violet, some girl from somewhere who made a point of talking to him on and off. Quite a bit for this past week though.

"Yo," he grunted, pulling his school bag out of his locker and slamming it shut. He was still swallowing the irritation of being startled.

This Violet girl was fairly odd looking. She had frizzy red hair, brown eyes, not a physical trait that stood out, and she didn't seem to fit in anywhere, just like him. Ryan wasn't shallow and she wasn't ugly either. Nothing could set her apart from the rest of the crowd in this school and that was why he didn't give her a second thought. She was so weird to boot.

"So, I saw that you fell asleep in English again," she said, chewing on her gum and watching him intently. "What could possibly have you so tired?"

"Huh?" he grunted, losing interest in what she had to say. Oh wait, something about why he's so tired. Ryan looked at her plainly and said, "I have a secret life of crime fighting. I'm a hero, what can I say?"

Violet chuckled as he walked away. His sarcastic and apathetic nature was quite cute, especially when she could see that he did care about the little things he seemed to shrug off. She watched him strut away from her and out the doors before turning to her own locker.

Freedom! The day of incarceration at the hands of public education drew to an end! Now it was time to go home, do his chores, eat dinner, pretend to be in his room doing homework, and sneak out to kick some criminal ass. Of course, Uncle Tom was not going to be pleased when he found out about yet another classroom nap. Considering that his uncle was a science teacher in the same school, word would get around. He pushed that thought from his mind, enjoying the sweet air of the outdoors. The sunshine and the chirping of the birds was much better than the stuffy hallways of his high school. He quickened his pace down the sidewalk in front of the school, anxious to get off of the property before--

"Ryan," a voice called after him, it was his Uncle Tom.

"Uncle Tom," said Ryan, smirking and concealing any nervousness as he turned. He was going to get it. Tom, in his mid thirties, caught up to him and held a stern gaze. The man was about the same height as Ryan. He had short brown hair, dark eyes, and had more muscle tone than Ryan. Uncle Tom had hobbies beyond teaching, in fact, he was a black belt in... Ryan honestly couldn't remember. Tom studied under various styles. "I, um, I was just heading home."

"Uh huh," agreed Tom, trying not to crack his stone expression with a smile. "To finish your nap, right."

"Oh," muttered Ryan, blushing a little. "I guess nothing gets by you, Uncle."

"That's right," Tom replied, grinning at Ryan's antics. "Hey, come on. I need your help cleaning up in the Chem Lab. You can catch a ride home with me after."

"Sure," said Ryan, scratching the back of his head and asking, "You're not mad at me?"

"No," said Tom, turning back toward the school's entrance and gesturing for his nephew to follow. "Cleaning the lab is enough punishment. Something blew up and I can't very well leave our poor custodian to this mess."

"Woohoo," Ryan muttered sarcastically, and under his breath. "Detention. Having a parent for a teacher is _awesome_."

***

After a few hours in the chemistry lab, Ryan had finally completed the mundane tasks such as wiping the countertops, mopping the floors, organizing the books, and wiping the residue from the walls. He wasn't exactly cleaning with his Uncle, his Uncle was furiously making notes the whole time while Ryan did everything else. It was a very practical punishment in all reality. Tom had time to mark the assignments on his desk while he had Ryan attend to the clean up. The time required in order to finish the tasks was now halved. Ryan looked to the clock on the wall, it was almost six o' clock.

"Hey, Uncle," Ryan began, finally breaking the silence. He was curious to discover his Uncle's opinion on something that had been on his mind while cleaning. As his Uncle looked up from his notes, he asked, "What do you think of the Power Rangers that have been running around town lately?"

Tom tensed, placing his pen on the desk. This was a topic that he was sure would come up. The new batch of Power Rangers were on the news occasionally. Ryan was a teenager, a curious teenager. He sighed, massaging his temples with his right hand as it no longer held the pen.

"Well," Tom began, not sure of where to take this, "I am not happy about them. I think the Power Rangers disappeared all that time ago for good reason. Some things should just be left alone. Plus, they don't have the resources the Rangers once had. They're amateurs and people are going to die from their inexperience."

Ryan was completely taken aback and feeling a bit defensive from the sting of his Uncle's words. Sure, the lot of them were ingrates. Yet, he felt that he knew what he was doing. His fingers curled around the mop, tightly. "How would you know that they are amateurs? Not all of them are clueless," argued Ryan, feeling his voice as it began to quiver with anger.

"I was your age when the last generation of Power Rangers were around," retorted Tom, narrowing his eyes upon Ryan. "They were organized and functioned as a team. These clowns run around, doing their own thing. They have saved the day a couple of times, yet they barely made it out of those situations intact. They have no idea what they're doing. Therefore, I do not approve of their gallivanting around the city I reside in."

Ryan felt his teeth grind, he was furious. However, reacting would give more away than he'd like to. Confiding to his Uncle that he was the Green Ranger was definitely out of the question at this point. He needed advice and a mentor, they all did. They were all inexperienced and he knew it. Even his Uncle could see their sloppiness.

"If they did such a good job, then why aren't they around now?" Ryan asked, his tone hoarse with wrath. "If they were so good, then my parents would be alive today!"

Tom shook his head, feeling himself flush and his temperature rise with the surge of emotion. "I don't know, Ryan," he replied, grabbing his coffee cup and storming out of the room. He needed to take a few minutes to calm down. There was a lot Ryan never understood and he couldn't fault him for that. He was just a kid after all.

Ryan scoffed and went to his Uncle's desk. He didn't want to think about the new Power Rangers, the old Power Rangers, or his parents. They died when he was two years old. They were riding the subway and one of Lord Zedd's monsters laid waste to the main terminal, killing hundreds of people. His parents were among them. If the Ranger's then were so good, that wouldn't have happened. It was that massacre in 1996 that changed the tides of the war. The Rangers banded together, destroyed that evil once and for all, and they were never seen again. No one heard of or saw any Power Rangers, until recently when the new Power Rangers resurfaced. To many residents of Angel Grove, the Power Rangers were a very taboo subject of conversation. His Uncle Tom's reaction made that very evident and he felt like he just engaged in a debate about religion, politics, and abortion all at once.

"Let's see what these bozos got for a mark," muttered Ryan, desperately seeking a distraction and an assignment with Remus' name on it. "Dead Zone?" he asked himself as his eyes scanned the pages of his Uncle's notebook.

_"With the advent of the new Power Rangers, strange anomalies have been surfacing throughout Angel Grove. These spots that shall be referred to as 'Dead Zones'. Any form of power from a morphing grid is rendered useless within said Dead Zones. Various phenomena include the poisoning of carbon based life forms, the mental warping of individuals caught within a Dead Zone, mutations of the structure fostering this negative energy, and the manipulation of spiritual energy. These zones are dangerous and must be wiped out at all costs. A way to do that has not been discovered as of yet. It is within my speculation that the destruction of Zordon and the old command center caused any residual power to leak into any area connected to the Rangers of the past. When Zordon sacrificed himself and drained the Power Coins in order to destroy Lord Zedd and Rita, he also sealed the Earth away from any evil force out there. However, with the mysterious creation of a new morphing grid, the last remnants of Zordon's morphing grid are reacting adversely to the new morphing grid wherever it may be. I have yet to conduct any field studies on the issue. There are several confirmed locations recorded below that will be approached at a later time."_

Ryan took his cell phone out of his pocket and took snapshots of the pages in his Uncle's notebook. This new discovery was worth investigating and he would go to one of these places when he snuck out tonight. When he finished taking the photos, he put his phone in his pocket, closed his Uncle's journal, and went back to pick the mop up in order to put the cleaning supplies away. How did his Uncle know so much about the Power Rangers and what was going on with the new ones? What was he hiding? Ryan drained the dirty mop water into the closet drain. The chemistry lab was connected to the janitor closet. Access could be gained from the lab and the hallway. Were these Dead Zones the reason his Uncle hated the new Rangers? Was their existence responsible for these areas to manifest? It was then that Ryan resolved to clean up this mess himself. If his existence created these Dead Zones, then he would personally extinguish all of them.

"Ryan," Tom came back and called out to his nephew, he was putting his notes and assignments into a leather rucksack. "Time to go home, buddy. Maybe we'll rent some cheesy horror flick on our way," he suggested, well aware that renting movies always served as a peace offering.

Ryan smiled, seeing the side of Uncle Tom that deeply cared about him. Since he was two years old, Ryan was under Tom's care. Uncle Tom was the only parent he ever really knew. However, he still had every intention of unearthing his Uncle's connection to the Power Rangers after reading that note in Tom's book.

"Yeah," agreed Ryan, grabbing his book bag and following his Uncle out of the chemistry lab. "A horror flick sounds like a great idea."

***

It was now a little after eleven o'clock and the movie titled _Nazi Zombie Cows From Hell_ was now ending. Ryan peered over to his Uncle Tom who was now dozed off in the recliner. Like clockwork, Tom was out like a light just after eleven. Ryan got up from the couch and went into his bedroom, making a 'sleeping Ryan' effigy out of pillows beneath his comforter. Uncle Tom had a habit of looking in on his bedroom at two in the morning when he woke up in the recliner and relocated to his own bedroom. Ryan pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, lifted out the bottom of the drawer to reveal another section where his morpher was hidden.

Tonight, he was going to make a detour from slapping around petty criminals and check out one of these Dead Zones. After he put the drawer back together, he went into his closet and pulled a black hoodie over himself. He planned on being home a little while before his Uncle woke up. He spent time studying his Uncle's routine as sneaking out had been his favourite pastime since he was about fifteen. That was the reason he discovered his morpher in the first place. On one fateful night, he felt a calling toward the old colonial cemetery and found his morpher by an open grave. After that, everything changed and he became the Green Ranger. Ryan often spent his time in the public library for the past year and a half, pursuing knowledge on the Power Rangers from the 1990's. Yet, he now had new knowledge that he was more than eager to make use of.

The youth opened the window, stepped out, closed it quietly, and walked through the backyard towards the garage. Uncle Tom's motorcycle tempted him, but he settled for his street legal dirt bike instead. If it was one thing his Uncle Tom knew how to do, it was restore old bikes. He, undeniably, had one of the coolest uncles ever. The bike was customized with mirrors, complete with elaborate green trimming on the fenders, a 250cc engine, and even had a license plate. Ryan opened the garage door with the switch on the wall, wheeled the dirt bike out of the garage, took a remote out of his pocket, and closed the garage door. He wheeled the dirt bike away from his house before mounting it, kick starting it, and speeding off into the night.

***

In the driver's seat of her silver Corolla, Violet was staked out in front of Ryan's house and waiting for him to emerge. The girl with frizzy red hair had been studying him every night for the past week, because she discovered the morpher in his school bag when he wasn't looking. A morpher that bore a striking resemblance to her own. They had something in common and she wanted him to know. Yet, she could never find the right way to approach him in order to tell him. Even she knew that snooping and stake outs were just plain creepy. Oh no! She dripped the insides of her jelly donut all over the place! Violet grabbed a napkin and began to wipe furiously.

"Now, I'm gonna be tacky," she hissed, wiping her mess up and realizing the inadvertent play on words. With that, she began to laugh and even snorted a little. Violet then saw Ryan's dirt bike disappear over the hill just down the street. "Oh yeah!" she exclaimed, reminding herself that she was supposed to be watching and following him. She started her Corolla, put it into gear, and sped after the young man on the dirt bike. She squealed with excitement as she pursued her classmate and hummed her own espionage theme music.

***

The dirt bike came to a halt just beyond the locked gates of what looked like an unoccupied mansion in the rich division of the city. Ryan killed the engine and took out his cell phone, double checking the address. He came to the right place, the address verified it. The young man dropped the kickstand down and dismounted the dirt bike as a silver Corolla parked down the street from him. His brow furrowed, he didn't want to be seen out here at this hour. Yet, the occupant of the Corolla just sat there. What in God's name was that person even doing? Ryan pocketed the cell phone and marched over to the car. He had seen this car almost every night this week and it was pissing him off. When he went to knock on the window, he noticed that the occupant was ducking down to hide. As if he wouldn't see who it was, how obvious was she?

"Violet," groaned Ryan, knocking on the window, "I know you're in there!"

"No you don't!" she replied, still curled up and hiding underneath her arms.

"Open the window!" he demanded, frowning at her. As she opened the window he demanded in the form of a question, "What are you doing here?"

"I, um, I live here!" she replied, grinning sheepishly.

"No you don't!" he responded, crossing his arms.

"I love you," she confessed, yet carrying a facetious tone.

"What?!" he asked, completely flabbergasted.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, turning the question around on him.

"That's none of your business!" he growled, clenching his fists and preparing to storm away.

"I'm a Power Ranger too, can I stay?" she begged, batting her eyelashes.

"Unbelievable," groaned Ryan, he drew his palm over his temples and shook his head. "Fine, whatever, come on."

"Yay!" she squealed, getting out of the car and accidentally hitting Ryan in the stomach with the door as she climbed out of the vehicle.

Ryan folded his arms over his stomach and doubled over. This crazy bitch winded her with the car door and pain momentarily rippled through him. This was turning out to be the weirdest night of his life. First, his Uncle Tom had some strange connection to the old Power Rangers. Now, creepy Violet was allegedly a Power Ranger as well. What was next?

"Are you okay?" she queried, inspecting the boy she just hurt and grazing her hand over his thigh.

"What the hell?!" Ryan sputtered, standing up and rearing back from the girl who just touched him inappropriately. Violet only put her hand over her mouth, feigning innocence with a vacant stare. She was acting like nothing happened at all.

"Okay!" she said, breaking the awkward silence, "let's go!"

Ryan howled with exasperation and stormed over to the gates. This girl from school was not only stalking him, confessing her love to him, knocking the wind out of him, snooping around and finding out his secret life as a superhero, but also molesting him. What in the hell was wrong with her? He came to the gates of the mansion and sidestepped through the iron bars of the gate. Violet followed suit and she hummed her espionage theme as she trailed behind him.

"Shut up!" he roared, losing his patience with her.

She smiled at him and said, "You're right. Not a good time."

He didn't want to dignify her with a response and continued up the asphalt driveway, looking around to see the yard that was only maintained periodically. It looked like the lawn wasn't mowed in well over a year. This place, it tugged at his heart and he felt this sinking feeling in the pit of his soul. He didn't know why yet, but he had been here before.

"Holy, heebie jeebies," she gasped, looking at the mansion that seemed to give off an eerie vibe. This mansion looked haunted and its appearance shifted into some kind of hellish structure right before her eyes, like an M.C. Escher painting. Strangely enough, it shifted back to that of the cozy ranch style mansion they had seen in the driveway. "What the flying damnation?"

His Uncle Tom's journal said that Dead Zones were dangerous. Maybe that was why this mansion was abandoned, he wasn't feeling poisoned though. It just seemed to be altering his perception. Ryan began to wonder if he was getting in over his head, yet he felt a desire to keep pressing on. He came to the front doorstep and the door swung open, of its own volition, as though to bid him welcome. As Ryan crossed the threshold, the door slammed behind him and Violet was left out on the front porch.

"Ryan!" she called, banging on the door. It was no use, the mansion did not want her to enter. "Where's the sensor for the automatic door?" she called out, jumping up and down. Violet decided to leave, she couldn't wait out here for him if she couldn't get inside. He was in danger and he needed help now. She'd go out and find someone, someone who'd believe her.

***

Her voice did not reach him and he fell into a brief trance as the Dead Zone put him under a spell. The arrival of the Green Ranger had now caused the Dead Zone to react and grow stronger. What was so familiar about this house with white sheets draped over every piece of furniture? Why did this place feel like--

"My home," Ryan muttered, moving up the stairs as the walls rippled and the boards creaked with their preternatural contortions. The stairs then slanted, clicking into place to become a large slide. As Ryan fell backwards, the base of the stairs opened, like the maw of some great beast, and swallowed him whole. The boy cried out as he fell into the black abyss.

An hour had passed and Ryan woke up on the floor in the mansion's basement. He felt like he had been hit by a large truck. He looked up and saw a phantasm of the White Ranger. It looked just like what he had seen in a lot of the news articles he spent hours sifting through in the library.

"What are you doing here?" demanded the White Ranger, pointing at him. The voice was familiar, something he could not put his finger on.

"That's none of your business," growled Ryan, standing up and feeling quite weak.

"Get out!" demanded the White Ranger, disappearing into the nothingness from whence it came.

***

The silver Corolla pulled into the driveway of Ryan's house and she turned the vehicle off. Violet frantically made a bound from the driver's door to the front step of Ryan's house. It had to be nearly one in the morning now. As she stopped before the front door, she began to bang on it furiously with both hands. She didn't know what to say or do. The young woman was worried about Ryan, who disappeared into that haunted mansion all by himself. If anyone would believe her, it had to be Ryan's uncle.

"Mr. Oliver!" she cried, knocking furiously on the door. "Mr. Oliver!"

The door swung open and there stood Ryan's Uncle Tom, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He squinted at the frantic redhead before him and asked, "What are you doing here at one in the morning, Violet? Do your parents know you're here?"

"No! There's no time for that!" she screeched, a sense of urgency overtaking her. "It's Ryan!"

"What about Ryan?" demanded Tom, clenching his hand into a fist.

"Green Ranger, sneaking out, vigilante crime fighter! Stake out, pissed him off, disappeared into haunted mansion! Help!" she gasped, tears streaming down her face. "I need an adult!" she cried, lunging and latching onto Tom.

Tom exhaled sharply, "What?!"

***

Ryan managed to find his way out of the basement as the corridors changed continuously, appearing to Ryan as some dungeon-like labyrinth. When he ascended the stairs, the basement reverted to its true form: a fully developed and furnished floor. This house was trying to drive him mad, he knew it. The main floor spanned out before him at the top of the basement's stairs, blood suddenly seeping through the walls. The same word was spelled again and again: Ryan.

A woman's voice whispered, coming from everywhere, "Ryan. Ryan, go to the nursery."

The voice then became contorted, raucous, and demonic, "Perish!"

The apparition of a serpent broke from the walls and lunged right at him. This black scaled creature with red eyes wriggled toward him as he ducked underneath it. The beast plunged into the opposite wall and Ryan gasped, breaking into a nervous sweat.

"Upstairs, Ryan," the woman's voice whispered, "that's where you must go. Hurry! Break the curse on your Mother and Father's home!"

"Huh?" he grunted, feeling trepidation creep into his soul. His parent's home? He had to swallow all fear and keep going. It was the only way out.

Without any further hesitation, Ryan broke into a mad sprint up the stairs. When the stairs tried to shift into a slide on him once again, Ryan took one large leap and landed at the top of the stairs. The house shook, becoming angry with his presence advancing deeper into it. The floor boards began to buckle and swell as something moved beneath them, making a wave of splinters advance toward him. From the floor, a demonic black dog lunged at him. The eyes were beady, red, and glowing while his glistening white teeth were bared. The boy fell to the floor as the dog flew over him. He was terrified, this place terrified him. He wanted out, oh god, he wanted out. This Dead Zone was digging into his subconscious and prying out every single fear within him.

Ryan stood up, panting desperately. He'd morph, he'd morph and he'd feel safe. He drew the golden morpher from his pocket and held it out in front of him. Beads of sweat ran down his face and he cried, "Dragon!"

Nothing happened and the dog growled, drool frothing from its maw and onto the floor. Why couldn't he morph? The large black dog smiled, as well as any canine could smile, and lunged at Ryan, snapping its jaw shut as it narrowly missed him. The youth screamed in terror and turned to run away from the dog. He slammed a door shut at the end of the corridor when he passed through it. The dog crashed into the door, cracking it slightly.

After taking a look around, he realized he was in the nursery. He knew this place, this was his bedroom when his Mom and Dad were alive. The room was empty now, but he remembered it vividly. This was where he was supposed to go, now what? Ryan sprawled across the floor on his stomach, feeling terror grip him. He couldn't take anymore and exhaustion clutched him, digging its claws into his soul. He just wanted to close his eyes and wake up from this nightmare.

"Look at the hot shot, sniveling on the ground like some pathetic animal," laughed an apparition, appearing before him in the shape of the female Blue Ranger he disliked. "Get up, you worthless maggot. How can you act better than us when you are just the same?" she asked, disappearing into thin air.

Several apparitions then appeared before him, including his Mother, Father, Uncle Tom, Violet, the new Power Rangers, and the old Power Rangers. All of them encircled him, judging him. They were all pointing at him, laughing mercilessly.

"Look at the scared little boy, lost and alone," they chanted, the room spinning and purple mist started seeping into the room beneath the door. It was poisonous, he couldn't breathe. Ryan's chest began to tighten, he felt like he was going to die.

"Mommy! Daddy! You left me!" he cried out, rolling onto his back clutching his chest.

"We didn't want to leave you," they echoed, vanishing.

"Uncle Tom, you lied to me. You never told me about this mansion, your knowledge of the Power Rangers, were you a Power Ranger?" he asked, barely choking out those words.

"I was trying to protect you from making my past mistakes," replied the phantasmal Thomas Oliver, fading away.

"I don't hate you," Ryan admitted, looking to the new team of Power Rangers. They all disappeared, saying nothing at all.

"I...forgive...you...." he said wearily, looking to the old team of Power Rangers, feeling his eyes roll into the back of his head. "It's not your fault," he admitted, falling into unconsciousness. The purple mist faded out and the house reverted to a state as though nothing had happened here at all. The Dead Zone was purified and every supernatural trace of it was no more. Ryan laid still upon the floor of the nursery, in a fetal position, with his golden morpher still in hand.

***

_**The next morning**_

Ryan awoke in his bed, quickly scanning the room. He was back in his Uncle Tom's house, in his bedroom decorated with swimsuit models, Gundam figurines, and assorted posters of scantily clad women. Was it all a dream? He sighed, slinking back into his pillow. He was still in his clothes from last night and sore as all hell. How did he get home last night? The bedroom door swung open and his Uncle Tom stepped through, holding Ryan's golden morpher.

"Hey, sport," said Tom, looking at the golden morpher, "First of all, you're grounded. Secondly, I never thought I'd see anything like this again," he admitted, analyzing the device with genuine interest. "I've been staring at it all night."

"Uncle, I--" he trailed off, not knowing what to say. His secret was out, what more could be said on the issue.

"I think you have a lot of explaining to do," Tom spat, feeling mixed emotions. He wasn't sure how he felt about Ryan following in his footsteps as a Power Ranger. "In fact, I think we both have a lot to talk about."

**End of Chapter Four**


	6. In Terrorem

**Author's note: **_I must apologize for this prolonged silence. School has been a real hassle and I've had to put this chapter together one small piece at a time. I will try not to let that happen again. Anyway, enjoy the chapter and I shall get the new one up as soon as I can. I also noticed some inconsistencies in my previous chapters with the numbering. I'll try to stick to words for the numbers from now on. My '***' for the POV also didn't show up in 'City of Ghosts' and it is now too late to fix them. Sorry! I'm going to insert horizontal rulers from now on.  
_

**Chapter Five: In Terrorem**

Violet tapped her hands, rhythmically, upon her desk in homeroom. The plain white tiles on the floor, light blue paint upon the walls, and the whiteboard mounted behind the teacher's desk were a sight that any student would take for granted. It was getting close to 9 o'clock and there was still no sign of Ryan yet. Come to think of it, she didn't see Mr. Oliver anywhere either. She stopped rapping her palms against the wooden surface when she noticed that people were staring. With a blush, and a nervous chuckle, Violet slumped back into her seat.

It was just last night that Ryan went to explore a haunted house and became trapped inside. She vividly remembered how, in a moment of panic, she sought out Ryan's Uncle Tom for help. Ryan's guardian now knew everything, especially the fact that she and Ryan are Power Rangers. Violet thought more about how unhappy Tom looked when he told Violet to just go home and that he would go to the mansion to fetch Ryan himself. The science teacher also instructed her to not worry and just go to school like she normally would.

Wait a minute, she was listening to what someone told her to do? If Ryan didn't have to come to school, neither did she. She had a right to know what was happening. In her mind, she thought of Ryan as her partner. Besides, how could he ever love her if she wasn't near him all the time to show every side of her lovely personality. If being clingy worked for Bella Swan, it would certainly work for her. Ryan could be her Edward! Always running away, but doomed to succumb to her in the end. Or something like that anyway.

Violet waltzed out of the school, after quickly fetching her book bag from her locker. Her morpher and cell phone were contained within the belly of the large toothy brown square that was 'Domo'. She began to skip, as she neared the crosswalk, and merrily sing, "Skipping school! Skipping school!"

* * *

"Jesus christ," Ceres growled, holding the accelerator down with her right foot. "The one day I need to borrow the car, you decided to jerk off in the shower and make us all late!"

"Fuck off," replied Remus in protest, narrowing his blue eyes as he stared out the passenger window, "I was not doing that! I get plenty of tail, I don't need to jerk off!"

"Uh huh," grunted Ceres, brushing the wisps of blonde hair out her eyes, she then looked at her little brother and asked, "you mean that confused teenage humping that you think is real sex?"

"Ugh!" he sputtered, looking injured. "You're just bitchy cause you're on the rag."

Her silver eyes widened with rage. He did not just refer to the womanly cycle as THAT? Did he? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he wasn't wearing his seatbelt. She smiled wickedly as she slammed on the brakes without warning. Cruel laughter escaped her lips as her brother's forehead hit the dashboard.

"AGH! What the fuck?" he hollered at his sister, clutching his forehead and continuing to yell, "ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?"

"Crazy?" Ceres asked, grinning a grin of petty victory, "isn't crazy not wearing your seatbelt?"

"I hate you!" he yelled, unlocking the car and storming out of the vehicle. They were almost in front of the High School anyway. There was definitely going to be a red mark on his forehead for a while. What he didn't realize was the fact that he forgot his grey school bag in the back seat of his silver Pontiac G5 that his parents let her borrow today. Remus lost his car privileges for going over the text limit on his cell phone and making the bill way too high. In his mind, his parents were stupid, it wasn't his fault he was popular.

"Oh my sweet, little sugary, Remmy!" she called out, standing out of the car and dangling his book bag. "You forgot your backpack!" she said, lobbing the book bag several feet over to her brother. He was blushing as he caught it. "Make good choices!"

He turned bright red and stomped away, big sisters were just the worst thing ever. How dare she embarrass him in his domain? The young man disappeared through the front door of the High School, wanting to get as far away as possible. All the while, Ceres stood and enjoyed every second of what she was watching.

"OH MY GOD!" a shrill cry broke the air, Ceres turned around to lock eyes on the source of that noise pollution. "It's Lucy Lawless!" cried Violet, running up to Ceres who was still standing beside the car. "Can I please have your autograph?" asked Violet, her big brown eyes sparkling with reverence for her idol: Xena Warrior Princess.

"Ugh, that's the second time I've heard that," groaned Ceres, standing a few inches taller than the softer and curvier ginger that stood before her. "Hey, Hello Kitty, I'm not Lucy Lawless," she said, looking at Violet's backpack that looked like some crazy jap cartoon character, before pausing to ask, "shouldn't you be running off to class, or something?"

Violet was taken aback as the surprised and appalled gasp pushed out of her throat. She glared and exclaimed, "You're stupid! It's DOMO! HELLO KITTY AND DOMO AREN'T EVEN ON THE SAME NETWORK!"

Ceres heard some of that as she climbed back into the car and sped away before the young red head could finish her sentence. Violet's features scrunched as her disdainful gaze followed the car. Her countenance suddenly relaxed when the car went out of sight. What was she doing again? Oh yes! Going on a quest to make Ryan love her! She'd cut across the Angel Grove Park and get lunch for Ryan from this cute little diner downtown. There was a bus stop nearby and she could ride the public transit to Ryan's house. Her brow furrowed at the thought of having her car keys taken away from her. She had been caught sneaking out with the car last night and was now stuck on foot for the next month.

* * *

Azrael stood atop the charred ruins of the Heaven's Way Hotel. Even after a month since the inferno, renovations were delayed. Lately, this was his vantage point of choice. Since last night, he could not help but feel a little stronger. What was the cause for this? What exactly had happened last night to break the seal on his own powers. Ever since the advent of the new Power Rangers and their morphing apparatus, his powers were greatly downsized and he was but a mere shadow of his former self. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, he was tied to them. At least, that was the conclusion that he had arrived at. The new Rangers emerged and were weak, suddenly he was too. This mysterious connection, he would get to the bottom of it soon. He also wanted to find out what had happened to make them all stronger. Just what had transpired on the previous night?

His breath snagged as he sensed something in the Angel Grove Park, not too far from the hotel. The sorcerer had finally found the last Ranger out there, he could sense the Pterodactyl Coin. He had failed to get the Mastodon Coin from Virgil, yet he now had the team in his sight. If they could assemble and grow in power, maybe his powers would return to him.

Azrael smiled darkly beneath the black hood. Thanks to someone's efforts last night, his ability to summon weak and multiple minions returned. That meant that he wouldn't exhaust himself by summoning a lesser demon. No, he could summon dozens of creatures to whittle away at their strength and wipe them out with the invocation of a demon if he chose. Revenants assisted him on battle field in medieval Europe hundreds of years ago, they would assist him again today.

Without further delay, he conjured an elegant and grand scythe. The handle was stark black in contrast to the decorative, and deadly, steel blade that was engraved with large letters to spell 'In Terrorem' which was Latin for 'Upon Fright'. The mystic reached out and took the scythe from where it had appeared. Azrael lifted off of the rooftop, levitating like a vision of the Grim Reaper itself. He was going to formally introduce himself to this new Ranger and unleash a horde of revenants upon Angel Grove as he was suddenly in a playful mood.

* * *

"I'm so glad she wasn't Lucy Lawless," grumbled Violet, stomping along the cobblestone pathway of the Angel Grove Park. The deciduous trees rustled in the gentle breeze as the soft rays of sun melted through the leaves, plastering subtle dapples upon the young woman. "Lucy Lawless wouldn't be rude anyway. And what was I thinking? She's fat," Violet hissed, scathingly, "well, maybe not. ARGH! I hope I never see her again!"

Several heads turned in her direction as she stomped by and recited her angry monologue. After several seconds, many of them resumed their own business and forgot about the odd young woman that had passed by.

To reach the Diner, one must veer off of the main path and head through the flower gardens. As Violet came to the fork in the road, she did just that. The flower beds were elevated up off of the ground and enclosed by brick walls, roughly, three feet in height. The pathway moved between two of the large flower beds for a lengthy stretch of the walk. It was a serene walk for many, but absolute hell for those with allergies. There were a wide variety of flowers throughout the flower garden that made for a vibrant display of so many colors, so many symptoms. Anything for Ryan though, anything.

"ACHOO!" she sneezed, wiping her nose with the back of her right hand. Her eyes began to water and the roof of her mouth felt itchy. "I HATE THESE MALICIOUS FLOWERS! THEY WANT ME TO SUFFER!"

In the midst of her ranting and sneezing, she failed to notice the man in black robes that softly landed upon the brick ledge of the flower bed. When she turned around to see a hooded man in black, holding a scythe, she screamed and backed away. Violet stumbled backwards, over the ledge of the opposing flowerbed, and wildly flailed her limbs as she fell into the flowers.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed, rolling in the flower bed that exacerbated her allergic reaction. "My allergies are killing me and the Grim Reaper is here for my soul! I'm in a rainbow of hell!"

"The Pterodactyl Coin chose you?" he scoffed, rhetorically, watching this pathetic creature succumb to the flowers she fell into. "Truly pathetic indeed."

Violet rose from the flowerbed, petals mashed into her now messed up hair. The young girl was standing in the flowers, wiping her eyes and nose. She met Azrael with an inquisitive stare, through her reddened and irritated eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, how did you know?" she asked, continuing to wipe her nose, her voice nasally from the plugged sinuses. "Wait, I'm not pathetic! I have hidden potential!" exclaimed Violet, looking injured before adding, "besides, you look like a bad Halloween costume! Who are you?"

Azrael shook his head in disgust, disappearing. With any luck, she'd perish at the hands of his Revenants and the Pterodactyl Coin would choose a better candidate. He didn't really care and was somewhat disappointed with this meeting.

"He's gone?" Violet asked herself, leaping down to the cobblestone pathway. "Haha! I scared him away. Suck on that, bitch!"

A bony arm rose from the flowerbed, the dirt rumbling as more followed suit. Violet shrieked as half a dozen skeleton warriors rose from soil like daisies. Their sights were fixed upon auburn haired young woman, yielding the directive to kill her without hesitation.

* * *

Naomi strolled along the pathway of the Angel Grove Park as it was a great shortcut from the University to the Diner. The Diner, in the past month, had become a great place to hang out with her new friends, the other two Rangers she knew, Ceres and Milo. Class was cancelled, it looked as though she could meet her friends earlier than expected. The young woman marveled at how beautiful the day was, yet she felt like she couldn't fully appreciate it. Despite the fact that there were no demonic attacks in over a month, it seemed like her and the others were waiting for 'the other shoe to drop' this whole time.

Naturally, the screams and clamor of people fleeing reminded her of how right they were to hold that mindset. Naomi then ran directly against the flow of people, people fleeing whatever was going on up ahead. The commotion seemed to be taking place over at the flower gardens. As she arrived, her soft blue eyes hardened upon the gaggle of undead skeletons trying to have their way with some poor girl. Their bones were black and pieces of dried, broken flesh, hung in rotten chunks from various joints. They only moved due to supernatural influence.

Naomi noticed that this young woman with the wild locks of red hair was holding her own, she was flailing at these skeletons with her 'Domo' back pack and haphazardly mimicking every move from random action movies. Naomi couldn't help but stare as this girl bounced on the balls of her feet, kicked behind her, and tried to strike upon another skeleton with an open palm. It looked ridiculous, but this inexperienced civilian was trying to defend herself while everyone else ran away. To Naomi, that was admirable as she had no idea that this girl was another Power Ranger.

She couldn't morph around a civilian. These skeleton monsters would have to be fought back and Naomi did just that, closing in on them. The first one, she kicked at the back of its knee and knocked it down to the ground. Her arms were held up, ready to block any open space upon her torso from the blow of an opponent. These things weren't so bad, she was worried for nothing. Naomi followed up by pivoting on her heels, raising her right leg high above her head, and smashing her heel down into the skull of the next monster. That was something she learned from watching the White Rider when he used it on that golem a month back. The other four monsters released Violet and lunged upon Naomi, wrapping their bony digits around Naomi's limbs. The other two got back up and joined in. Her movements were restricted and she was now vulnerable as they began to pull on her. One of the monsters opened its mouth and sunk its blackened teeth into her left shoulder. Naomi cried out, feeling the white hot pain scorch through her entire torso.

"Oh no!" cried Violet, reaching into her back pack, fetching her morpher, "I'll save you!"

"PTERODACTYL!" she exclaimed, holding the morpher out in front of her. The coin within the device began to shimmer with a radiant and pink light.

"What?" Naomi managed to vocalize, absolutely stunned that the girl she tried to save was actually one of the other Rangers out there. This was fantastic! They only had to find out who and where the Black Ranger was. Her joy was short lived as the monster biting her now broke the skin and warm, sticky, blood trickled down her shoulder. She struggled in vain, realizing that she was reliant on this new Ranger to set her free.

* * *

Pink ribbons of energy danced around Violet's limbs, entwining upon them. As they bonded with her, she felt a sort of surreal vertigo from the infusion of power. There were butterflies in her stomach as she was bound by these vibrant ribbons of energy. The spandex like material formed upon her, her hair tightened to her head, and the helmet formed around her. She now saw the world through the tint of her black visor. The pink fabric, with white diamonds strategically placed throughout the outfit, also accentuated her forty three inch bust line which she was sure Naomi stared at, even though a skeleton was trying to eat her.

She might have been a clumsy, dorky, teenager when she wasn't the Pink Ranger, yet she adopted a completely different persona when transformed. The Pink Ranger was a vicious brawler, no she was a berserker. This immediately became evident when the Power Bow, the Pink Ranger's personal weapon, appeared in her left hand. It looked as though she would fire on the skeletons until she clutched the bow with the other hand and held it like a club. With a fierce battle cry, she ran towards the skeletons holding Naomi captive and then leapt high into the air. As she descended upon the skeleton holding its teeth in the other girl, she growled, the Power Bow in her hands fell swiftly upon the skull of the monster and shattered it into splinters. Naomi fell to the ground, clutching her bleeding shoulder. Violet sized up the situation, five skeletons remained.

In what felt like slow motion, Violet stepped into the fray, her bow swung with a swift ferocity into the ribs of another skeleton. The bones shattered and dispersed into every other direction. She growled, spinning and swinging in the opposite direction to gain greater momentum. Another skeleton was annihilated by the blunt force of the bow that she swung. There were now three remaining.

One of the skeletons jumped onto her and tried to restrict her, wrapping his arms and legs around her. In a howl of rage, she broke free as she stretched her arms out with maximum force. The skeleton fell to the ground and she jumped onto it. The Pink Ranger was now seen jumping up and down on the unfortunate skeleton, stomping it into splinters with both feet. When she was finished jumping on the fallen skeleton, another punched her in the kidneys. Instead of faltering, she grabbed the monster's arm, ripped it off, and commenced beating it with its own arm. The skeleton fell down and she realized that its own arm was not effective enough. The arm was discarded and the Power Bow now screamed down into the pathetic creature, ending its short life. One skeleton remained.

"Die," Violet uttered, adopting a classic archer pose, drawing her index and middle fingers from the bow to the string, and conjuring an arrow of pure energy. She took hold of the newly created arrow, pulled back on the string, and released.

The arrow closed in on the remaining skeleton, connecting upon it. In an explosion of pink energy, the creature was utterly vaporized. Violet turned away, aloof to the beating she laid upon these creatures. This was the first time she had ever fought like this and her heart was pounding inside of her chest like a war drum. Naomi was now in sight again, staring in fascination.

"That was incredible," said Naomi, rising to her feet, "I didn't know you were a Power Ranger like me, but I'm glad I found you. We didn't know if the Black and Pink Ranger were somewhere out there. My name is Naomi and I am the Yellow Ranger."

"Huh?" grunted Violet, cluing in that this girl was a Power Ranger too. It definitely explained why she rushed in to help fight the skeleton monsters. "I'm Violent, er, Violet."

"It is nice to meet you. I am good friends with the Blue and Red Rangers. We have met the Green Ranger, but we do not really know him," confessed Naomi, rubbing her shoulder. God, it hurt a lot.

"I know him," said Violet, dreamily, "I love him."

Before she could revert, or say anything else, the man in black robes reappeared before them, clapping his hands.

"Bravo," he said, ceasing his applause. His voice was so smooth, yet so powerful and penetrating at the same time. "While we're all introducing ourselves, I thought I'd join in on the formalities. My name, to the likes of you, is Azrael."

**End of Chapter Five**


	7. Convergence

**Chapter Six: Convergence**

Strands of dark hair fell haphazardly around her face as she leaned over the table, furiously wiping disinfectant across the table's surface. Though Milo wasn't on shift today, she found herself offering a hand to keep busy. It was her day off and Ceres offered to take her shopping, she was running a bit late though. According to Ceres, evil was taking a break and there was nothing wrong with them having a day out on the city either. Ceres and Naomi, over the past month, they had become her closest friends. If it was your fate to fight evil, why not do it with some of your best friends. Milo smiled at that sentiment, standing up and walking into the back with her cleaning rag in hand. There was that other man too, they hadn't seen him since that day. She didn't want to admit it, but she fancied him when she laid eyes on him for the first time. Often enough, her thoughts would find their way to him. Milo remembered the way he walked up to that golem in such an aloof fashion, transforming in mid stride. What had he transformed into? Some armored beetle warrior? That anonymous man was so confident and strong. They needed someone like that on their team, yet he didn't seem too interested in joining them either. Milo set the cleaning rag into a bucket by the sink, blushing. Why was this man in her head so much?

She stepped up to the soda fountain and held her glass to it, allowing the Diet Cola to pour into her cup. Enough had been done, she'd wait out front for Ceres to come pick her up. Knowing Ceres, she'd want a cup of coffee anyway, there was lots of time. Sometimes, Milo had a tendency to walk around without looking where she was going. Today was one of those days. As she walked out from the kitchen, toward her chosen table, she collided with someone. Milo staggered back after crashing into what felt like a wall of muscle. The contents of her cup were now all over this man's shirt and dripping down to the floor.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, grabbing a handful of napkins from the nearest table and forgetting all personal boundaries. When her mind was occupied, things escaped her. "I'm so sorry," she said, patting the shirt down with napkins.

"For spilling your soda on me? Or invading my personal space?" asked Virgil, staring down at her, blankly.

"Huh?" she pulled away, looking up at Virgil. _Oh no!_ Milo thought, blushing and stepping away from him.

"Don't worry, I kind of liked it," he chuckled, putting his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans.

Her brow furrowed and she fumed, feeling utterly embarrassed and now harassed. It was him, the guy who showed up and finished off that monster they struggled with. Today, he had shown himself. There was a sudden lump in her throat, she was too nervous to speak. Milo's hands felt cold and clammy. She took a good look at him. He was wearing a silver button down shirt, a black muscle shirt, form fitting blue jeans, and his hair was a little shorter than before. Other than looking like he hit the gym even harder over the past month, he looked the same to her as he did a month ago.

"Hey, I was wondering," he began, stepping in closer. "I think now would be a good time to talk."

"About what?" asked Milo, barely getting those words out, her eyes widening as she backed away. Ceres was approaching, angrily.

"You know what. Can we talk, or not?"

Not more than a few seconds ago, the door flew open and Ceres stood in the doorway, noticing Milo and some guy talking. From where she stood, it looked like this guy was giving Milo some trouble. That wouldn't do at all. Poor Milo, always getting grief from boorish men that liked her looks. She'd show that jackass what was what for getting up in her friend's personal space. The Amazonian woman stomped toward them, noticing Milo back away with wide eyes.

"Hey, Dickhead," she snarled, grabbing Virgil by the shoulders and spinning him around to face her, "FUCK OFF!"

Ceres coiled her arm back and sent a fierce strike toward his jaw. With a sickening noise upon impact, Virgil was sent sprawling across the tiled floor. He slid a few feet and writhed uncomfortably for a few seconds. She flashed her silver eyes over to Milo, locking with the young woman's golden eyes.

"Milo," she started, "you all right?"

"I appreciate it, Ceres," stammered Milo, looking over to poor Virgil, "but he wasn't doing anything."

_What? But? God damn it._ Ceres felt her tongue graze over her teeth before she cocked her eyebrow and said, "Oops."

"Agh," grunted Virgil, hissing painfully through his teeth as he rose to his feet slowly. "God, what the hell, Lady? You hit like a man."

"It's the general idea, pal," Ceres retorted, crossing her arms, still not recognizing who this person was. "So, if you weren't harassing my friend, what were you doing?"

After a pause, it clued in for Ceres and she grinned.

"Hey," she drawled, walking in closer, "you're that 'Henshin' guy," she said, really dragging on with the word 'henshin'.

It all made sense now, he was approaching Milo about what happened last month. He wasn't trying to force his way into her pants. No, he was just trying to make contact. After all, they had all seen one another transform. Maybe, he was finally ready to meet everyone. Ceres did feel a flicker of remorse, but people had to be conscientious of how their actions looked. She was far from sorry.

"Yeah," Virgil said, slowly, expecting an apology that obviously wasn't coming.

"Okay," said Ceres, indifferently, walking past Virgil who was checking out the woman's muscular frame beneath the black dress shirt and dark blue denims. Regardless of the masculine attire, there was still a pervasive amount of femininity. The tawny woman sat down at the bar, in her usual spot, getting her daily fix of caffeine.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, pursuing her. "You hit me on an assumption, ask me about what I am, and then walk away after saying: 'Okay'?"

"Mmhm," she hummed, taking a sip of the coffee that Milo poured into a cup for her.

"Bitch," he muttered, shaking his head, sitting down beside her. Milo set a cup down in front of him, poured some coffee into it, and disappeared into the kitchen to resurface with a bag of frozen peas. He graciously took the bag and held it to his jaw.

"That's right," she said smugly, setting her mug down. "The name is Ceres. She's Milo," added the powerfully built woman, gesturing at Milo behind the counter. "And you are?"

"Virgil," he replied, raising his coffee cup to his lips.

Milo could not help but chuckle at the way Ceres spoke to this guy. Yet, here she was, so nervous and intimidated by his good looks. Granted, she knew that she was quite the looker herself. Maybe, she'd just get the tension over with and ask for his number. That didn't seem like such a bad idea at all. Yet, as she drew her cell phone in order to initiate the formality of the number exchange, a flash of pink light exploded in the tree lines of the Angel Grove Park. When she pointed out the window, Ceres and Virgil turned around to see what was being pointed at.

"I'm not an expert," sighed Milo, pocketing her cell phone, "but that looks like our cue."

* * *

"Azrael," repeated Naomi, the name had such power in itself when she repeated it. "Are you the one who started those fires and created that rock monster a month ago?"

"I might have," replied Azrael, smiling sheepishly even though his face could not be seen beneath his hooded robe. "What of it?"

Naomi felt her teeth grind with anger as she heard such a simple reply that implied so much. Her hand still coddled her wounded shoulder, this was bad. Still, she found the bravery to fix her eyes upon him and yell, "People are dead because of you! You are a monster!"

"Yes, their souls, extinguished like pathetic insects," he sighed, remaining stationary. "The end always justifies the means, does it not?"

"No!" Naomi screamed, waving her good arm in an aggressive motion to amplify the power in her words. "Life is valuable and must be preserved at all costs. We exist to stop things like you! I will see to your end right here and now!"

"Oh?" Azrael responded, meeting the young woman with an inquisitive stare.

With one arm, Naomi drew her morpher from her pocket and held it out before her. Though she was injured, she had to make a stand. Didn't she? She swallowed hard, clutched the morpher, and cried out, "SABRE-TOOTHED TIGER!"

The pulse of yellow light engulfed and caressed Naomi, alleviating the wound upon her shoulder with its gentle touch. The tingling euphoria of infusing with the light was all that she could feel now. Naomi stood, clad in the tight fabric, as the helmet took form over her head. The Yellow Ranger now stood proudly, looking to the Pink Ranger who nodded back to her. They'd work together and take him down.

"Let's get him, Naomi!" Violet called out, enthusiastically, conjuring an arrow of pink energy and taking aim upon Azrael.

Twin daggers materialized in Naomi's hands as she sized up the situation. They were in the flower beds, there was open space, and they were dealing with someone capable of summoning fierce monsters. It also appeared that he was capable of teleportation which made luring him into an enclosed space absolutely useless. No, fighting him in this open space ensured the best chance of survival.

Violet released the arrow and watched on as it screamed toward Azrael. He leapt above the arrow and began to levitate in the air, materializing his scythe before him and taking it into his hands. Behind him, there was a brilliant flash of pink light. The arrow made impact with a tree, shattering it, the area of impact, into splinters. The tree fell to the ground, making a loud crash. Violet missed, Naomi had expected that, through no fault of her aim. He was fast and definitely more capable of fighting than the creatures that he summoned. Was he toying with them this whole time? Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the glisten of light on the blade of Azrael's scythe.

"Get down, Violet!" Naomi called out, watching him swing the weapon from afar. Violet leapt down onto her stomach, laying as close to the cobblestone path as she could. Razor-like shimmers of air passed over her and mulched the flowers into fine petals that scattered into the air, raining upon Violet as she stood up.

"Clever girl," muttered Azrael, locking eyes upon Naomi.

_Now that I have warned Violet of his retaliation, I fear that he will attack me from behind,_ thought Naomi , staying on guard.

As Azrael disappeared and reappeared behind Naomi, she was ready. The Yellow Ranger spun around, leapt over the wide, sweeping, motion of Azrael's scythe, and kicked off of it to leap higher into the air. She performed several back flips before landing onto her feet, further away.

"You were ready for it," Azrael began, utterly fascinated, "most impressive."

"It is easy to anticipate the actions of a coward," hissed Naomi, holding her daggers tightly. Had she not had her wits about her, she would surely be dead already.

Azrael laughed derisively, letting go of his scythe as it began float in front of him and spin rapidly. Dozens of fireballs formed and volleyed towards Naomi. Every single one struck upon her and exploded, sending the unfortunate Yellow Ranger into the air.

"It would appear as though your good fortune has expired, my dear," said Azrael, taking hold of his weapon once more.

Pain ripped through her and she could feel the full heat of his attack as she landed. Though fortunate that she was protected from harm, she still felt all of the pain attached. _He is too powerful_, thought Naomi, coming to her feet, slowly, _I cannot win._

"As you and the other Ranger played so well with my Revenants," he said, holding his left hand into the air, charging it with a pulse of energy, "I shall summon fifty more!"

The dark purple matter scattered everywhere, implanting into the ground. Approximately fifty spots on the ground were shedding a violet hue as more of the skeleton monsters began to rise from each location. Before long, Violet and Naomi were staring down a horde of Revenants and Azrael. The present outlook seemed hopeless. Azrael leapt high into the air, choosing the top of a high tree as his vantage point. Watching the Revenants tear the two girls asunder would prove amusing.

As Violet created another arrow and drew the bowstring back, Naomi clutched her daggers tightly. They were both prepared to fight until their last breath. For them, the silence was deafening. In that instant that they resolved to die fighting, the silence was shattered.

_**"CLOCK UP."**_

_He was a fair distance away, yet close enough, to see the skeletons rise out of the ground and surround the two Power Rangers up ahead. They transformed in a back alley, knowing they'd be facing some threat. Virgil was happy with their intuition. The time it would have taken to 'Henshin' here might have cost them the advantage. Yet, in this moment, time was on his side. Everything around him had ground to a halt. Ceres and Milo, everything, slowed down but him. Virgil broke into a run towards the Revenants, noticing that his 'clock up' adversely affected them. This would be like shooting fish in a barrel. In a flurry of kicks and punches, defenseless Revenants shattered while their bones suspended in midair due to the slowing of time. Virgil was intent on leveling the playing field the best he could. From the look of the Pink and Yellow Ranger, they were in the midst of fighting Azrael. Before his 'clock up' expired, Virgil had managed to take out over thirty of the Revenants._

_**"CLOCK OVER."**_

As soon as Naomi heard the electronic voice, she saw the White Rider from before standing in the midst of the Revenants while over thirty of them suddenly collapsed, defeated. What had just happened? It had to have been him, saving them. Just how powerful was he? She had noticed Ceres and Milo run up beside her and Violet, morphed. The flashes of Violet's arrow must have given away their location. That was lucky.

"Whoa," said Ceres, admiring Virgil's handiwork, "way to go Virgil!"

"That is his name," muttered Naomi, realizing that he must have appeared out at the Diner. Everyone was slowly coming together, this was good. The skeletons now marched upon all of them. They were together, they were ready, and they were strong.

In the hands of the Red and Blue Ranger, the Power Sword and Power Lance materialized. The two women charged upon the Revenants. Milo slashed, struck, and impaled while Ceres swept her weapon in circles, smashing skeletons to bits. Naomi ran in, punching and slashing at the monsters with her daggers. Violet fired her bow into the crowd of Revenants, after holding onto the arrow for as long as she did. A shockwave of pink devastation took out several of them. Virgil was also in the fray, punching and kicking at these creatures. Altogether, the group had whittled down the crowd of Revenants. Only their bones littered the ground now.

"Aw," said a familiar voice, feigning a pouty tone as he walked down the pathway and joined the other Rangers, "I missed the party."

Behind the visor, Violet's eyes lit up. He came! He was here! All was well in the world. She happened to be standing beside Naomi when she whispered, "Don't you just love how moody and cool he is?"

"RYAN!" yelled Violet, not giving Naomi a chance to say anything at all.

"Oh god," he grumbled, not expecting Violet to suddenly run at him and tackle him. As they fell to the ground she hugged him tightly.

"I missed you! I didn't know if I'd ever see you again," she said, standing up and helping him to his feet. "I was on my way to pick up lunch for you and come visit you! But then I was attacked, by that guy!" she yelled, pointing at Azrael in the treetops. She turned to face the other Rangers and said, "This is Ryan. He's my boyfriend."

"I AM NOT!" he yelled, flushing beneath his helmet. Thank god that his face was hidden right now.

"Oh, silly," she said, mistaking his 'I AM NOT' as denying his name. "There's no need for secret identities here! We all know each other! We're all friends!"

"Violet," Ryan hissed, gravely, feeling faint.

"Wow," said Ceres, stifling all laughter. "I love her 'Ryan'," she chuckled, really taking the time to emphasize his name. "You need to bring her around more often."

"Aw!" squealed Violet, looking at Ceres. "I like you too!"

"Enough!" yelled Azrael, pointing down towards Violet. "This one sickens me!"

This was a reminder that the danger wasn't eradicated just yet. They might have defeated the Revenants, yet Azrael was still a present, and ominous, threat. His scythe began to float in the air, spinning, while all of the bones from the fallen Revenants coalesced into one large mass. There was a flash of violet light and a loud roar. When the light subsided, a large skeleton monster stood at a height of twenty five feet. The creature had long, powerful, limbs and two large horns protruding from its skull. If Revenants had a ruler, this thing would be their king. Azrael took the scythe back and looked down to the Rangers who were looking up at this monster. This monster easily stood higher than the tree that he perched himself in. Violet let go of Ryan while everyone else huddled closer together, all thinking of some way to defeat this thing.

"Live or die, Rangers," Azrael yelled down to them, "it's all in your hands now."

"Let's thrash him, everyone!" Violet yelled, feeling confident in herself, also attempting to impress Ryan, charged an arrow into her bow while she ran headlong into danger, knelt down, and aimed it at the giant skeleton's skull.

Milo saw what Violet failed to see. The creature was drawing its arm back and preparing to strike. Her heart raced, she knew that she had to do something. All of this time, she felt like she was failing as the Red Ranger and leader of the team. She didn't know how to guide anyone, or conduct herself in battle. And now, she was faced with an epiphany. Someone on her team was about to die and, suddenly, she now knew what to do. Violet, though behaving recklessly, had to be saved at all costs. Even if it meant sacrificing her own life. That was the duty of the leader: to lay your life on the line if it meant saving another teammate.

_They will all learn to take me seriously_, thought Violet, releasing her arrow. A grim expression of dread formed behind her visor. Violet saw her most grievous error as the large hand of the monster was closing in on her, she was going to be crushed. She closed her eyes, not wanting to accept her fate. Out of nowhere, a pair of hands clutched her shoulders and threw her out of harm's way. As she rolled, she saw the monster's hand come down and crush Milo.

"Milo!" cried Ceres, feeling terror grip her heart as the monster performed its fatal attack upon the Red Ranger. Violet's arrow exploded upon the creatures shoulder, causing it to stagger backwards.

Milo laid in the grass, her golden eyes staring vacantly into the vivid blue sky. The attack was more than her suit could withstand and she had reverted. Blood ran down the corners of her mouth and every bone in her lifeless body was broken. Milo Jenners had bravely sacrificed her own life in the name of the team that she wanted to protect. She was gone.

**End of Chapter Six**


	8. Time's March

**Chapter Seven: Time's March**

_Death, such a wicked awe inspiring force. Around every corner, it lurks. Ever consuming...unstoppable._

Virgil stood, watching the events that transpired. The demonic, gigantic, skeleton that had crushed Milo and Violet's arrow that sent it staggering back. Before his eyes, Milo had perished. The Red Ranger fell, preserving the life of another. A hero's death.

His teeth ground with rage, his fists clenched, and he was vibrating from the raw emotion. The powerful, fiery, rage that exploded from his heart and flooded every bit of him. He had seen this before. Death, it was so familiar. Too many had fallen around him. He was no native to Angel Grove, these memories he had were a mere illusion. Where he came from, there were other Riders and he had seen them die. There was still fog around his precious memories, he didn't know everything. What Virgil Cross knew was that he would not wield to Death's power any longer. That was enough death, enough pain!

What everyone saw next was indescribable and soon forgotten.

Virgil howled with rage, raising his left arm into the air. As he extended his arm, as far and high as he could, white electricity buzzed in the palm of his hand. The fabrics of space and time were tearing. When the brief disruption had passed, there was a new device in the palm of his hand: the Hyper Zecter.

The power of death was a great and powerful force. By human hands, death was unpreventable. However, all forces in the universe bowed down to one thing: time. Right now, time was on Virgil's side.

Azrael watched from his tree, fascinated by another dimension of Virgil's power and silently cursing the skeleton for taking out the wrong Ranger. Between these Power Rangers and Kamen Riders, he wondered which power was stronger. What was going to come from this latest development? What could this new device that Virgil summoned do?

"No one dies today," growled Virgil, clipping the Hyper Zecter to the left side of his waist. As it clicked upon his belt, he closed his eyes, whispering: "Hyper Cast Off."

_**"HYPER CAST OFF"**_, boomed the Lespid Zecter at the front of his waistline.

The air became chilled as Virgil stood silently, letting the power of the Hyper Zecter take its hold. It was all happening so swiftly, yet everyone felt as though this moment was dragging on for an eternity. Bolts of white lightning were arcing all over Virgil's Lespid armor while waves of unseen energy were pulsing off of his form. The Kamen Rider now knew, as more of his past memories came flooding in, that his Lespid armor had never fully recovered from his final battle with Rion, the great Lion demon. That battle from one year ago had damaged his Rider system and pushing it to this limit would ultimately destroy his armor forever.

Here he stood, trading his power for the life of Milo while he began to shift into his hyper form.

A white hot line split vertically down the front of his helmet, each half now fanning out in opposite directions to change the face and shape of Lespid's helmet. Every piece of armor received a subtle augmentation and expanded slightly. Steam spewed from the armor pieces as they opened and the changes had taken place. As he lowered his arms and clenched his fists, three twelve inch blades shot, out of his forearm plates, toward his shoulder plates on each side. As the transformation completed, the eyes of his helmet shone brightly with an immense hue of crimson. This was the hyper form, Lespid's final hurrah.

_**"CHANGE HYPER LESPID BEETLE!"**_

His eyes dimmed as he tapped the Hyper Zecter with his left hand.

"Hyper Clock Up."

_**"HYPER CLOCK UP!"**_

_A deafening silence fell upon Virgil as time stood still. His eyes began to flash crimson as everything seemed to move in reverse. The arrow came off of the skeleton's shoulder , the skeleton staggered forward, the hand fell back onto Milo which then raised once more to reveal a morphed (and unscathed) Red Ranger, Violet fell up and back into Milo's grip, Milo released her grip on Violet, and the arrow flew backwards into Violet's hand, poised to fire. This was the moment that he needed to return to, the critical point to change Milo's destiny. Time froze once more, he could already feel the suit nagging at him. It was climbing to its limits and pleading to be spared. Virgil could feel his heart racing and the beads of sweat running along his forehead, tickling him. The young man wasn't even sure if his body would withstand this either._

_He stepped forward, he was going to take Milo's place and unleash the last of his power on the giant fiend. The beast that was in the midst of delivering it's crushing, fatal, blow upon Milo._

_"Well done, Virgil," laughed Azrael, floating down from his tree branch and touching upon the ground softly._

_The Rider stopped, fixing his gaze upon the hooded mystic._

_"How are you moving?" demanded Virgil, hiding the strain in his voice. "I just froze time," he hissed, wondering if Azrael would strike at him before Milo could even be saved._

_"I am immortal, boy," chuckled Azrael, curling his fingers rhythmically, assessing the fatigued Rider. His time was running short. Some master of time this Rider was, it was borrowed after all. "Being timeless does, after all, imply that I am impervious to your manipulations."_

_"Damn," confessed Virgil, panting, "I was going to take you down after ripping your pet to shreds."_

_"I'd imagine that this use of power puts some strain upon the entire universe," said Azrael, completely ignoring Virgil's last statement. "Your suit is too powerful, it drains the universe and shatters the delicate balance of reality itself."_

_Virgil said nothing, his time was running out. He had to save Milo before it was too late. Otherwise, he'd have sacrificed his Rider system in vain._

_"Of course," continued Azrael, looking to the frozen Milo and Violet, "there are limits set in order to prevent the destruction of the universe. For example, nothing can ever match the speed of light. The universe governs all laws of nature and forbids it. Even I must obey these laws."_

_"What are you saying?" Virgil snapped, his question coming out rather harshly._

_"That you must make a payment for the use of this power. The universe will take something from you. Your power, perhaps your life. Your costume looks damaged, it can't protect you from what has been set in motion," said Azrael, finality laced within his tone. "I will allow you to change the destiny of Milo Jenners. Yet, you may ask yourself if you've initiated a new chain of events. You might have even doomed yourself, the team of Rangers around us, and maybe the world as well. The blame will always rest upon your shoulders. It's only going to get worse. More will die now, all because of you. Fate always retaliates cruelly."_

_A sharp exhalation escaped Virgil as his teeth clenched._

_"Don't worry, Virgil," cackled Azrael, vanishing into thin air, "it will be our little secret." _

_"So be it," declared the Rider, moving to Violet and Milo, grabbing them both and tossing them out of harm's way._

_Violet froze in mid-air, releasing the bow and arrow that now pointed into the sky. It was lucky that her arrow wouldn't stray into someone else as it seemed to have quite the kick. Milo was beside her, ceasing her motion in the midst of her trajectory. They were both safe, he smiled. His lungs burned and it felt like fire was licking hungrily at all of his muscles. A white broad sword appeared in his right hand. The hilt was decorative and resembled the Lespid Zecter._

_**"HYPER CLOCK OVER!"**_

The flow of time resumed as it was meant to, all oblivious to the future that Virgil prevented. Violet and Milo made impact upon the pavement of the walking path while Violet's arrow shot haphazardly into the sky above. Milo felt disoriented for the moment, wondering what had just happened. How was she alive right now. In the instant that she decided to sacrifice herself for Violet, she was now laying beside her and safe. Who saved her?

Just then, the skeleton's hand came down and there was a loud crash to follow. When the noise and dust subsided, Virgil stood triumphantly, flashing the blade of his sword while the disembodied hand of the skeleton was on the ground beside him. The skeleton felt no pain and it was preparing to strike at Virgil, forgetting the Pink and Red Rangers.

"Something's missing here," muttered Ryan, in his Green Ranger suit, observing calmly as the events unfolded, "I didn't see him move."

"He did not do this before," Naomi added, looking to Ryan, "I'm not sure what he's doing. Is he moving really fast?"

Ceres said nothing and watched on. She was sure that Milo was about to die, she was in mid-stride to try and save them both. Good old Virgil, he was the team's guardian angel. There was no point in interfering now, they'd only get in his way. He seemed intent on finishing off this monster.

It hurt, oh god, it hurt so much. Virgil winced, his armor was getting so hot and smoke began to rise from it. Surges of electricity were crackling all over him. He had saved Milo, yet at what cost? The suit was pushed to its limits and the fight was not over yet. Aside from that, Azrael warned of some cosmic consequence. Saving her was the correct choice, right?

Milo stood up, smiling behind her visor. He saved her, he cared, and she was grateful. What a heroic person. He was so stoic, so strong. Without a doubt, she was definitely attracted to him. He had to know when this was all over. Life was just too short for games.

As Violet stood up, she was crying silently behind the visor. Her selfish and reckless behavior had nearly killed someone. It was so hard being the clumsy and goofy one sometimes. It felt as though no one took her seriously and now, Milo had almost died because of it. She noticed Virgil, he looked like he was in pain. Violet nervously clenched her hands, covered by the white gloves of her suit, the tingles of anxiety taking hold. She hoped for the best, it was in Virgil's hands now.

The skeleton's other hand closed into a fist and hurtled toward Virgil. In his system's weakened state, this blow would most definitely kill him. If he clocked up again, he'd likely die too. _Tough choice_, he thought as he smirked behind his visor. The other Rangers weren't helping either. Yet, as they were, there was nothing they could do. The choice had been made for him, his left hand reached to the Hyper Zecter perched on the left side of his waist. _Time to go out with a bang_, he told himself, tapping it one last time.

_**"HYPER CLOCK UP!"**_

_The fist had ground to a halt as time once again fell under his command, for an exceedingly short period of time anyway. He had to attack now, it had to end. The Lespid Zecter made a whining noise, popping out the lever on his waistline. White electricity jumped all around him as he pulled the lever out further and pushed it back in. His eyes began to take on a furious glow as sparks were firing off of him, more smoke rising out of the white armor. The limit had been reached. This was the point of no return._

_**"MAXIMUM RIDER POWER!"**_

_If this was the end, then so be it. He'd make it count for something. Virgil drew in a deep breath as silver wings of pure energy came spewing out of his back, almost like a great purge of the Rider system's power. The sword began to shine brightly as he swung it overhead, in circles. A powerful bolt of lightning leapt from his blade and to the skeleton, maintaining its arc and lashing ferociously upon the large beast. For every reactive movement the skeleton made, it froze in time once again. The creature was utterly defenseless against Virgil's malicious assault. The White Rider took to the air, flying past and repeatedly striking the large skeleton with his sword. After a thrashing that consisted of ninety-nine slashes, he suspended himself in the air as he ran his index finger across the top of the Lespid Zecter and pushed the buttons__._

_**"ONE! TWO! THREE!"**_

_"Hyper kick," he whispered, closing his eyes._

_**"RIDER KICK!"**_

_The last surge of Lespid's power moved from his wings to his feet, casting a silver glow upon them. Virgil began to spin in the air rapidly, turning like a drill bit as he moved right through the skeleton. There was a spectacular explosion that froze as a result of the slowed time. Virgil landed upon the ground and dropped his sword. The pieces of the skeleton were also suspended in mid-air, waiting for time to resume and gravity to take effect._

_**"HYPER CLOCK OVER!"**_

As time resumed, everyone was privy to the explosion all around Virgil. It was over, the monster was vaporized. He had won the battle, but Azrael had won the war. He wanted to be rid of him and his Rider system, now the cloaked creep would have his way. Virgil fell to his knees, feeling a tightness in his chest. While he reached his right hand over his breast plate, pieces of his armor dropped from his arm and disintegrated in mid-air. Virgil could see his bare arm through the visor of his Lespid armor. He looked up, facing the Power Rangers as his mask made a vertical crack. Half of it fell away, disintegrating. The horrified Rangers looked on, seeing half of his face and half of Lespid's mask. Virgil was wincing in absolute agony, he was having a heart attack from the sheer strain Lespid's failing system had placed on his body. The use of his power was killing him and he was fully aware of this from the beginning. There would be no regret. Bit by bit, his armor crumbled. His days as a Rider were over and his life was coming to an end as well.

Virgil slammed his fists upon the ground and screamed in agony. This was going to be a painful death, he knew it. As he drew in short, and sharp, breaths, he took no notice of the morpher that rose out of his pocket and casted a black light. With no Rider system to compete with, the Mastodon coin had every intention of making Virgil its vessel.

"Hey, Bug-Boy!" Ryan yelled, pointing at the morpher landing in front of Virgil. "Morph! It heals you."

The young man desperately reached for the morpher, his vision was blurring and he was fading fast. Virgil took hold of it and choked out, "Mas...to..don."

Black fire ignited around him and the tight fabric wrapped over his weakened body, nuzzling him with its healing light. Almost to say that everything would be okay. It was strangely comforting. The helmet formed over him and Virgil stood up, fully healed, seeing through a new visor. From the ashes of Kamen Rider Lespid rose the Black Power Ranger. All six Rangers finally stood together, for the first time in over fifteen years. The threat was gone and more time was bought for the lives of both Virgil and Milo.

"Hey," said Ryan, circling Virgil appraisingly, "it actually worked."

"What?" sputtered Virgil.

"Well, hey," replied Ryan, "you were dying anyway. What did you have to lose?"

"It was a big risk!" exclaimed Naomi, glaring furiously at Ryan behind her visor.

"And it paid off," said Ceres, reluctantly praising the punk of a Green Ranger.

"So, this is the great team chosen by the Power Coins," sighed Ryan, crossing his arms.

"I just noticed," said Naomi, trailing off before regaining the courage to ask Ryan her question, "I researched the Power Rangers before the Green Ranger became the White Ranger. The Green Ranger had a plate of golden armor on his shoulders. Why is it that you've never had that?"

Ryan stammered, not knowing how to answer. "Look, we don't have time for that," he said, reverting back to human form. In the Green Ranger's stead, there was a blonde and wiry teenage boy,

Right on cue, all of the others reverted as well. Milo, Ceres, Virgil, Violet, and Naomi. To Ryan, none of them looked like Power Rangers at all and more like a haphazard group of whiny young adults. They truly weren't much of a step up from teenagers, yet they all judged him for his age. Bastards, all of them. The tawny youth reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of paper, handing it to Naomi.

"My Uncle Tom won't tell me anything about his past until all six Rangers are together," he started, putting his hands back into his pockets, leaving them there, "meet at this address in three hours. He wants to meet all of you."

Violet took a look at the paper and exclaimed, "THAT'S YOUR HOUSE!"

Ryan winced, partially from her annoying voice and mainly by her stupidity. With that, he walked away and left behind the five other people who were somewhat stunned, unsure of what was to come now.

Virgil stood there, looking at his hands that cradled a piece of his former self. It was gone, Lespid was no more. All that remained was a battered remnant of the robotic white beetle that enabled his transformations. In this moment, he was grieving and felt a deep wound that would never heal. Part of him was gone forever and, in exchange, Milo was breathing.

**End of Chapter Seven**


	9. A Ranger's Memoir

**Author's Note: **_Hey everyone! I just wanted to thank you for your support, your views, reading the story, and the favorites. I also wanted to take the opportunity to give a shout out to a good friend of mine: B Samurai. Virgil is a character that comes from a story B Samurai is currently adapting for this website! Our stories are connected and his story is technically a prequel to this one. If you're interested, please check it out! I'm having trouble posting the link properly, so just navigate to my favorite stories and you'll find it there. The story is called Kamen Rider Lespid._

**Chapter Eight: A Ranger's Memoir**

It had now been three hours since Ryan gave the other Rangers instructions to meet here at his home. He sat calmly, slouched into his recliner, listening to a shuffled mix of mp3s on his little green iPod. It was quite amusing for him to watch Uncle Tom pace anxiously to the rhythm of Alexisonfire's 'Crisis'. His uncle knew everything about him, the advent of his Ranger powers, and soon he would know the identities of the other Rangers. Tom refused to tell him anything, justifying himself with some nonsense that everyone else deserved to know what he had to say as well. Truthfully, it had been the reason that Ryan was out on the town this morning. He was searching for them, instructed to bring them all to Uncle Tom. It was a shame they were willing and trusting, bringing a couple in by force would have been fun. His brown eyes lazily fixed on the foyer that his uncle was watching with anticipation. Not only were they sloppy on the battlefield, they were fifteen minutes late.

As Uncle Tom bolted from their eclectically decorated living room, Ryan knew that they probably were here and knocking on the front door. God, he disliked them so much. Yet, here they were coming to invade his home. _I can feel a forced rapport coming on_, thought Ryan, disdainfully silencing his iPod and removing the earphones. He could now hear some of the conversation at the doorway.

"Welcome, all of you," said Tom, systematically shaking the hands of everyone outside. "My name is Thomas Oliver; Tom for short. Please don't call me Tommy though, personal preference."

"Aren't you going to invite them in, Uncle Tom?" asked Ryan, drawling with a tone of feigned hospitality.

"Oh," stammered Tom, backing up a little, "I haven't had company in quite some time, please come in."

In single file, Milo, Naomi, Ceres, Virgil, and Violet moved into the living room. As they took their seats, Tom moved into the room and laid eyes upon all of them. They were young, like he was then. In some way, he pitied them. The role of Power Ranger was not glorious, it was blood stained and tragic.

"Can I offer you anything? Water? Tea? Milk? Soda? Coffee? Whose over twenty one? I might have some liquor in the cupboard."

"Uncle!" snapped Ryan, "you're rambling."

"We are," answered Virgil and Ceres, in unison, raising their hands. They both entertained the idea of something strong and spoke up to put Ryan in his place. Tom noticed that they were both dressed similarly. Dark t-shirt and blue jeans. Ceres struck Tom as a somewhat tom-boyish person despite the golden hair and bright silver eyes. She was pretty, yet tall and powerfully built. Virgil was the same height as Ceres and built just as powerfully. Tom took note of the shaggy brown hair and the chestnut eyes that conveyed the young man's sorrow.

"Water is fine," replied Milo, with a courteous smile, crossing her legs and resting her hands on the black fabric in her lap. The young woman was adorned in a crimson t-shirt and frayed skinny jeans. It felt good to be out of uniform, Ranger and waitress alike. Her long black hair was tied back into a French braid while her make-up had been lightly touched up between the last fight and her arrival.

"Coca-cola?" asked Naomi, absolutely in love with the beverage. The young woman was still wearing her clothing from earlier today: a yellow cardigan over a white t-shirt and an adorable yellow skirt that hung well past her knees. She attempted to emulate Milo's mannerisms, but kicked Violet in the process of raising her left leg. Violet whimpered quietly, knowing it was an accident. "Sorry," said Naomi, bowing in apology. Tom couldn't help but notice Naomi's exotic appearance. She was Asian, yet her hair was a light shade of brown and her eyes were blue. In truth, she hardly looked Asian at all. It was her polite behavior that gave her away as someone from another country.

"Milk, om nom nom!" growled Violet, her voice guttural as she made her Domo backpack dance on her lap. She appeared to be deliberately avoiding any contact with Ceres as though they had some strange quarrel earlier in the day. In fact, Violet was still angry with the person who heckled her. Regardless of whether or not this person turned out to be the Blue Ranger, insulting Domo was unforgivable. _Ah Violet, _he thought. She was, undeniably, one of his quirkiest students in his ten years of teaching. Her body clearly developed too rapidly for her mind. She was so childlike and innocent. He made a point of keeping his eyes away from her large chest. This was discretion that Tom practiced diligently, even though some of the men in the Teacher's lounge were crude and lacked class in regard to the appearance of a minor. She was wearing a tight pink t-shirt and light blue jeans. After a pause, she concluded her statement in her usual inflection, "Mr. Oliver."

He looked to his nephew in the recliner, slumped back lethargically and staring at everyone else. The young man wore a white t-shirt and green pajama pants. It was strange. Ryan was like a son to him and ,for the first time, he had just noticed his nephew's haughty nature. This would not do. If the Rangers were to unite and fight effectively, all of their attitudes had to change. Ryan's attitude especially. Before Tom disappeared into the kitchen, he said to Ryan, "You live here, get your own drink."

"Ha!" exclaimed Ryan, holding up his half empty bottle of Dr. Pepper before lowering it back down to his feet.

"Ah," replied Tom, disregarding his smart assed nephew and exiting the living room.

"Well," Ceres said, looking at Ryan. "Nature and nurture have failed. Tom is a gentleman and Ryan is an ass."

"Well," said Violet, glaring at Ceres and mimicking her tone. "Nature and nurture have prevailed. Remus is a pig headed, narrow minded, asshole and so is Ceres."

"What?" grunted Ryan, looking at Violet with a confused expression.

"Yup, that's his big sister over there," replied the red haired young woman, flatly.

"Huh," scoffed Ryan, "that does explain a lot."

"How many times do I need to apologize for 'Hello Kitty', you little brat," hissed Ceres, in Violet's direction.

"Until I'm satisfied," stated Violet, turning her nose up at Ceres, "you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat other people, especially strangers."

With those words, Ryan shifted nervously in his chair. He was a complete dick to strangers, why was she fawning over him?

"It's okay, Ryan," said Violet, reassuring him. "I know that your asshole facade is an act. You have a great heart."

"Oh," sighed Virgil, "I hope your Uncle Tom has strong stuff."

"Aged," replied Ryan, "I wish I wasn't seventeen right now."

In the meantime, Naomi and Milo sat still. Both doing their best to stay out of the conversation. All of this feuding seemed exhausting and they wanted no part of it. The clamor seemed to subside once Ryan's uncle returned with a tray full of beverages. Each of them graciously took their drink from Tom. Virgil smiled, catching the scent of scotch on the rocks in his glass. He knew, right then and there, that Uncle Tom was a classy man.

"Hm," said Tom, holding onto the empty tray. "I don't believe I asked you of your names."

Each of them looked at each other and decided to oblige their generous host, saying their names down the line.

"Virgil."

"Ceres."

"Milo."

"Naomi."

"VIOLET!"

"Yes, Violet," replied Tom, kindly, "I still know you."

"Ryan."

Tom looked over to Ryan and shot him a quizzical expression, "Don't even."

"It is nice to meet all of you," Tom said, likely repeating himself. He was still marveling at these new Rangers , he didn't want to admit it, they were such vibrant people and so full of potential.

"Allow me to guess which Ranger is whom," chuckled Tom.

"Virgil," he began, " you're the Black Ranger."

Virgil nodded, hesitantly. This didn't feel like his war. Why was he here?

" Ceres," Tom said, looking in her direction. "You're the Blue Ranger, aren't you?"

Ceres smiled, taking a sip of her drink.

" Milo," he added, examining her, "definitely the Red Ranger. Quite the responsibility for anyone. Are you struggling with it?"

Milo blushed, trying not to provide any visible reaction at all.

"Don't worry, everyone struggles with it at first," he replied, reassuring her. "Your time will come, I assure you."

_It already had come, _Virgil thought to himself, scathingly.

"To shine as the leader, of course," laughed Tom, realizing how macabre his last statement sounded.

It seemed that Virgil and Azrael were the only ones aware of how Milo had cheated death. Now, because of Virgil's actions, some sort of backlash was on its way. Perhaps, Milo's death was an inevitability that would come in the next battle. Because of Azrael's words, he now questioned the benevolence in commanding time in order to undo Milo's death. It was a selfish desire that would come with a high price at any time.

"Naomi, I wouldn't mistake you for anything but the Yellow Ranger. Violet, without a doubt, you are Pink Ranger."

"How did you know of this?" asked Naomi, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward a little.

"Your reactions and process of elimination," snickered Ryan.

"Your clothes," replied Tom, firing a quick scowl at his nephew. "Your power gives you an unconscious desire to be close to the color that your power wields."

"Do you mean to say that we are subconsciously drawn to these colors?" Naomi asked, maintaining a genuine fascination in this discussion of Ranger lore. This Tom, how did he know so much?

"Exactly," Tom replied, walking out of the living room. "Hold that thought, I'll be right back."

The room held silent as Tom went into the kitchen and put his tray away. As he returned, he was holding a chair that he placed in the center of his living room. Tom straddled the chair, facing from the back of it as his forearms rested the upon the frame of his seat. Now he could make eye contact with all of them and be comfortable.

"Ryan tells me that he found his morpher near an open grave in the old Cemetery, over a year ago, while he was out being a juvenile delinquent," said Tom, glaring at his nephew. Realizing he trailed off, he cleared his throat and continued on with his story.

"That, I believe, is where your powers come from and it makes perfect sense now," Tom began, realizing that there'd be a lot of explaining to do this afternoon. "The Green Ranger powers were sent back in time to protect a colonial Angel Grove from the evil that leaked back into that era. I know this, because that Ranger was a clone of myself. But forget about that, it's complicated."

"Wait," interrupted Ceres, almost choking on her scotch, "you were one of the Power Rangers?"

Ryan sat in his chair, not realizing that he was white knuckling the arm rests of his recliner. Uncle Tom was a Power Ranger back then, he knew that. Yet, for some reason, the very reminder of that fact was chilling.

"Correct," replied Tom, nodding in Ceres' direction, "I was a Power Ranger fifteen years ago. I theorize, that this forgotten Green Ranger system was buried with my replica upon his passing. Somehow, this system rebooted with a catalyst and recreated the other Power Coins upon excavation. A grave robber, I suspect. A strong catalyst for this would have to be someone's life energy. The hypothetical grave robber is likely no more. How karmic. Luckily for my nephew, he found it post transaction," chuckled Tom, flashing a little bit of dark humor. "And here I thought it was just petty vandalism in the old Cemetery as I read the newspaper in the following days. I also dismissed the lights as fireworks."

"So," Milo said wistfully, looking injured, "we're fake Rangers?"

It was not just Milo who seemed upset by this, everyone but Virgil seemed disheartened by such a revelation.

"I'm afraid so," Tom said, gravely, "yet, it seems your powers can exceed that of the original Rangers. Ryan has told me about the demons you've faced, they seem more powerful than what we were once up against. Do not be discouraged by the fact that your Ranger powers are not of same origin as the originals. Our morphers lost their light a long time ago."

"How can you be certain of these facts?" queried Naomi, gently sipping her Coca-Cola.

"I've been immersed in Zordon's power before, I can sense when it's genuine. Your power, it is an off-shoot of a Morphing Grid that Lord Zedd himself created. Its power rests within Ryan's morpher. However, it was based on Zordon's creation. I wonder if you could even access the Zords," he rambled, mostly talking to himself.

"Does that mean I'm the battery?" Ryan asked, relaxing his grip on the chair.

"In a way," Tom said, answering the question. "Should anything happen to your coin, it might pull the plug on their coins too."

Virgil said nothing as he took a couple hard swallows of his scotch. Here he was in some retired Power Ranger's living room who was informing him of how his new power was, ultimately, governed by an arrogant teenager. _Oh dearest Tom,_ he thought to himself, _bring on that sweet elixir of forgetfulness! I miss my Lespid suit already._

"Uncle, they can summon weapons," Ryan stated, suddenly remembering their past battles together.

"That's right!" Violet chimed in, "I have a pretty pink bow that ANNIHILATES MY ENEMIES WITH FLASHY ARROWS!" she growled, wiping a little bit of drool from her chin, realizing she had superfluously elevated her voice as she suppressed a subtle hint of embarrassment .

"Well," Tom replied, after a moment of contemplation. "You can most definitely access the Zords then."

"You don't mean," Ceres gasped, having taken a generous swallow of her whiskey, "the giant robots?"

"If your systems become powerful enough, they could be brought back," Tom said, pausing. "No, I am sure of it."

"How do we do this?" Naomi wondered aloud. "Our team is badly fractured with their personal differences. Even when together, we are divided."

"It isn't for the sake of power that you all need to unify," Tom sighed, recalling past events that would haunt him forever. Ryan was a living reminder of that. "It's for the sake of all the people that you must protect."

"Your power must be taken seriously. Your burden has to be respected, you can't be normal now," said Tom, his voice becoming more intense as his eyes became unfocused. He was almost trapped in a memory, wounds that no amount of time could ever heal.

"Uncle Tom," Ryan said, breaking the silence and deepening the somber mood, "I want to know more about what happened to my parents."

"I was getting to that, I must confess."

* * *

_Fifteen years ago, I was not much older than Ryan. Though I was a Ranger and their leader, a part of me wanted to be a normal teenager. Underneath it all, I was arrogant, I had been too carefree for my own good. Until that day, they called me 'Tommy'._

_The day had started like any other. We went to school, thinking about the day's end and the extracurricular activities that we enjoyed. I was, am, a bit of a martial arts enthusiast. Many of my afternoons were spent at the Youth Center, refining my technique. We didn't have a lot of care, or concern, even though we held the fate of the world in our hands. In truth, we all strove to be normal._

_We were deceived. The forces of evil gave us the illusion of being reckless, scattered, and stupid. It made us arrogant, we thought that we were always in control. We were never in control._

_Ryan, the day that you and your parents were on the subway... It was the day that evil unleashed its might and overwhelmed us all._

_On our way from school to the Youth Center, myself and the other Rangers were abruptly torn from where we stood and pulled to the Command Center. Whenever we transported, we were engulfed in the light that represented the color of our power. Despite all of this, we were never ripped away without some sort of warning. Dread pooled in our hearts, something was gravely amiss. As the light subsided and the futuristically decorated Power Chamber became our new venue, the sorrow in Zordon's eyes made us turn to face the horror in his crystal ball: the viewing globe. Even his robotic companion, Alpha 5, had fallen silent from what was unfolding. As we all turned from the large crystalline container that held Zordon, we covered our mouths in horror...wishing none of this was real._

_At the main terminal of Angel Grove's Subway, people were being cut down without mercy. The train was derailed and upon its side. Many that were not cut down, were crushed beneath the cars. Blood, blood was smeared everywhere. People were screaming, despairing. It was a complete and utter massacre._

_"Rangers," Zordon said, his voice always so thunderous and commanding. "We have made the grave mistake of underestimating Lord Zedd and now the citizens are paying the price."_

_I made a vow to never disclose the identities of the other Rangers, yet I remember what the Pink Ranger, my girlfriend at the time, said._

_"We have to help them," she sobbed, crumpling to the floor. "We have to save everyone."_

_"I fear it may be too late," Zordon confessed, revealing the true, atrocious, face us war to us right then and there._

_"This is unforgivable," said the Red Ranger, a good friend of mine, "we will make them pay."_

_"Do not be drawn into the darkness," said Zordon. "To be consumed by revenge, it will only destroy you."_

_"Your mission," commanded Zordon, "is to destroy the monsters and search for survivors."_

_Before I could say anything, we were transported to the Subway and suddenly in our Ranger garb. Zordon was not wasting anytime and for good reason. Yet, nothing could have prepared us for this. Even the viewing globe wasn't enough for us to brace ourselves on what the calamity looked like in person._

_From what we could see, there were no survivors anymore. Lord Zedd's subordinates were laughing with glee because of the carnage they had caused. They knew that we were too demoralized to act efficiently. They had the upper hand and were poising to strike us in our moment of weakness._

_When I looked to the train cars on their sides, I immediately recognized someone close to the cars and felt pain tear through my heart. My sister was dead, crumpled on the concrete, holding dearly onto something. A few feet away, her husband was sprawled out, cut down...they were protecting..._

* * *

"Never mind!" cried Ryan, standing up from his chair abruptly. "I don't want to hear this anymore!"

"Ryan," Tom sighed, standing up and reaching out to comfort his nephew.

The young man shook his head and backed away. Everyone could see the tears forming in his eyes as he turned around and dashed out the back door. The room was so emotionally charged from what Tom was recalling, no one dared to break the silence. What broke the silence was the revving engine of the dirt bike that Ryan kick started and quickly sped away on.

Tom brought his hands to his temples, how selfish he had been. This was a deeply personal story that he never delved into with Ryan. Now, he was spilling it to a room full of strangers in order to make them take their powers more seriously. It was necessary, yet he now wished he was gentler.

"We should leave him alone," Naomi said, fighting the urge to console her comrade that left so suddenly. "Ryan deals with things on his own. We would only make him angrier if we tried to help."

Violet sighed, seeing Ryan in pain was too much to bear. She wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay. Naomi might have been right, but Violet didn't want Ryan to be alone after hearing about how his parents died.

"Normally," Tom sighed, "I would agree with you..."

"You know what," interrupted Virgil, standing up and advancing towards Tom. "I am thankful for your insight and hospitality, but I want no part of this," he declared, handing Tom the empty glass and his morpher.

"Virgil," gasped Milo, unable to conceal the shock in her voice. The Virgil she was getting to know was not afraid to fight. What was going through his head?

"You've done this before," replied Tom, his tone conveyed empathy for Virgil. "Haven't you?"

"Where I came from, I became part of a war that I wanted nothing to do with. I've seen people get hurt, killed even. It almost happened again in the park when I saved Milo and Violet," the muscular young man said, shaking his head. "No, Tom. You're right. I've done this before. I'm gaining memories I never knew I had. I'm still going over everything and none of it makes sense to me. Now, I'm here and I'm getting pulled into a new war."

"And you don't know what you're fighting for," Tom said, handing the morpher back to Virgil. "Figure it out, for your sake."

"I," Virgil replied angrily, wanting to throw the morpher and smash it. Tom didn't seem to get it. Was he just seeing another body to fight for his cause? The older man obviously had regret. Was he now going to live vicariously through the other Rangers?

"You can escape the burden of being a Ranger quite easily. Yet, it sounds to me that the burden in your soul is even harder to escape. Fight alongside us in order to piece together your past. Be our ally and, in turn, we will support you."

"I'll think about it," hissed Virgil, angry at the situation and the confusion that seemed to grip him as of late. Perhaps, he was a part of this in a way. The coin chose him and Azrael also pursued him. "Not knowing what you are fighting for, or who you are, anymore. It's almost maddening."

"Tom," Ceres said, rising from where she sat. "You said that Ryan would normally be better off left alone. What's different this time? Why do we need to go after him?"

The young woman was attentive to these details, she took note of Tom's mannerisms and tones before Virgil interrupted him. Ryan was in some kind of danger without even knowing it. She wanted to know why.

"He's likely going to the old Subway station," replied Tom, who became uneasy as he spoke. "He's heading straight into a Dead Zone."

"Dead Zone?" asked Naomi, wondering what that even meant.

"A Dead Zone is something I don't fully understand either," admitted Tom. "They are locations tied to fifteen years ago. Since you guys came out of the wood work, they've been appearing. They have the power to warp structures and siphon the life out of people who tread about them carelessly. Some are stronger than others. The old subway is weak right now. Yet, if a Ranger waltzes right into it..."

"It's going to explode with power and take Ryan with it," stated Milo, finishing Tom's sentence.

"Ryan is the sole survivor of the 1996 Subway Massacre, " said Tom, resolve icing his voice over. "The Dead Zones that attach themselves to places are alive and it might enjoy feasting on the one person that escaped all those years ago."

"It's sealed off," uttered Ceres, recalling her days as a police officer. Nobody went there, the citizens were terrified of that place to this very day. "We have time before he breaks in."

"Not much," chuckled Tom. "He has a way of getting himself into trouble, fast."

**End of Chapter Eight**


	10. The Heaven's Gate Massacre

**Author's Note: **Wow, that is the last time I neglect a story for four months. It took some work to get back into the mindset for this story. At any rate, here is the new chapter. I sincerely hope it was worth the wait! Cheers.

**Chapter Nine: The Heaven's Gate Massacre**

After leaving his dirt bike and helmet in a nearby alleyway, Ryan now stood at what felt like the mouth of hell itself. The once grand and elaborate stairway into the underground Heaven's Gate terminal was now sealed off by large, steel, shutters at the bottom of the stairway. Though most of the city was terrified of this location, many of Angel Grove's burnouts crawled here. That much was evident by the graffiti upon the walls of the stairway and the used needles on the ground. It was sealed off from the city since that day. It was never repaired and there would be no talk of its restoration. This place, as far as anyone was concerned, was haunted. As the youth paused for a moment, staring down into the ominous abyss, he slowly withdrew his morpher from his pocket and began his gradual descent into the darkness.

Ryan didn't give a flying damn about whether or not he was to avoid using his powers for personal gain. He would transform and blow that sealed-fucking-door to bits! Knowing what he knew now, he had to be in there. He had to see the place where his life as an orphan began! His mother, his father, everyone, they lost their lives here, all but him. As the sole survivor, he would enter the Heaven's Gate terminal and give his final send off to the dead. From there, maybe, just maybe, he would finally begin to find his closure.

"Dragon," he growled, feeling the familiar, fierce, power move through his body. In mid stride, vibrant ribbons of green light enveloped his frame, consuming him. When the light broke from his frame, like the glass from a shattered mirror, he sprinted towards the shutters, poised to withdraw his Blade-blaster and lay assault upon them. The youth froze, dead in his tracks, when the air shimmered and pulsed around the shutters. What was going on? Unbeknownst to Ryan, his act of morphing had awakened the Dead Zone. _What the hell? _Ryan asked himself, backing away from the strange sight before him. There was no escape. A demonic hand, violet in color, had formed from the strange mist gathering and reached out towards the Green Ranger. It took hold of him, the large hand, and he was caught between its fingers.

"Urgh," he growled, struggling in vain. It had him and it wasn't letting go. Behind the visor, Ryan's eyes rolled back into his head and everything went dark.

_Drip, drip, drip, dri-_

He jolted awake, disoriented and unaware of how much, or how little, time had passed. Still in his Ranger garb, Ryan rose to his feet and his eyes traced his surroundings. How did he get inside the sealed subway terminal? He didn't blast the door open, so was that giant hand real? He put his hand against his temple, how his head hurt. The Heaven's Gate terminal was dark, foreboding, and the elements had crept into here as the scent of mold and mildew permeated through his nostrils. Rats had made their home here and the broken pipes made themselves known with their unending drip. Time had passed, yet the derailed train cars still rested on their sides and served as a testament to that day.

"At least they washed the blood away before they sealed it all off," said Ryan, his voice shaky, emotions still raw and at the surface. He had been too young to retain the trauma, yet, in this very moment, the pain was too real for him. "I suppose, I should say my goodbyes and find my way out of here."

As he took his steps, a blinding light formed at the center of the rundown terminal and violently pierced the darkness. Ryan shielded his eyes from the sudden illumination, watching with awe as the station began to magically restore itself before him. The train on its side had vanished and the sullied tiles were once again stark white and pristine, devoid of any cracks. The sound of running water startled him, he turned around and saw the fountain intact-working! The station! It was miraculously restored and more beautiful than the pictures had portrayed in any of the books or newspaper clippings. For a moment, he had believed that none of it had ever happened.

The murmur of the crowd then shook him back to reality. People were hustling and bustling, fragments of their conversation filling his ears. Yet, strangely, none of them noticed the Green Ranger standing among them. He heard some say the train was due to arrive any minute now. His expression behind the visor was puzzled.

"Are you people stupid?" he asked, growling and raising his voice. "The tunnels are WALLED off!"

Nobody heard him, not a single head turned. They all continued laughing, chattering, and discussing their plans for the day in their own little groups, though some were alone and silent. It was like he was invisible, and inaudible, to any of them.

When he saw the next apparition, his heart had nearly stopped in his chest. Ryan felt a flurry of mixed emotions take hold of him, nothing could have prepared him for this. His parents walked past, swinging a small child between them. It-it was him? Ryan quickened his steps, weaving around people so as not to lose sight of the people that passed him.

"Mom!" he cried out, waving his arms. "Dad!"

Even though he caught up and called to them, neither turned or even acknowledged that he was even heard. What was this? What? Why couldn't he? Ryan jumped in front of Mr. and Mrs. Felding, spanning his arms out in an attempt to block their way. They had already stopped, with no intention to go forward. They were waiting there and his presence was not known to any of them.

"Mom! Dad! It's me, Ryan!"

"Mommy," whined the small, tawny, child, tugging at his mother's flowered blouse. "I'm hungry!"

"Soon enough, Ryan," chuckled Martin Felding, tousling his little boy's hair gently. "Soon enough."

"What a healthy appetite," beamed his mother, Lia Felding, alive and standing before him-yet addressing his younger incarnation. She was as beautiful as ever, hazel eyes and straw colored ringlets, just as he remembered. For the real Ryan, being unable to interact with his mother was almost unbearable.

Screams shattered the atmosphere as two monsters had descended the stairway and began attacking people. One of them appeared to be a demonic ape with wings, in golden armor, that brandished a sword. He was laughing raucously as he began cutting people down, spurts of blood flying out and painting the white tiles red. The other monster was what appeared to be a skeleton holding a sword, with his left half colored like camouflage. Ryan couldn't really find a way to describe it, other than him being a skeleton with shoulder pads and a torso that looked like a large skull as well. It clicked when he recognized them. The winged ape was Goldar and the skeleton was Rito. Together, they were laying waste to the crowd, scattering the despair filled people like confused livestock.

"The train," Martin said, moving between the monsters across the terminal and his own family as the train could be heard approaching, "we can get on the train and escape."

Ryan's fists were clenched and vibrating as he watched the monsters kill more innocent people. Yet, he didn't want to move from where he was situated, he had to protect his parents. The other Rangers weren't here to save anyone, but, he was a Power Ranger and standing right here! His father had a plan to get them to safety, he wouldn't let the monsters come close!

"Bastards!" he cried out, running towards Goldar and Rito with his Blade-blaster drawn. Each shot fired unleashed a blast of green energy. Unfortunately, it passed right through the monsters as he could not touch them, nor could they touch him.

"Rito!" Goldar snarled, pointing to the approaching train. "Master said no survivors! Take care of the train!"

"Right," replied Rito, materializing a grenade into his free hand and lobbing it at the approaching train. Ryan turned back to his parents and watched in horror while Rito and Goldar were laughing. The sounds of glass shattering and steel creaking were heard as the explosive detonated at the front of the train, immediately killing the occupants of the car it struck. Flames licked eagerly at the train and the force of the explosion had caused it to derail and roar across the platform on its side.

"Run!" Martin cried, grabbing onto Lia's arm as she scooped their screaming child into her arms. Not only did they have an explosion and shrapnel to escape, but the derailed train as it leapt off of the tracks and screeched across the ceramic tiles, concrete, and people that had crowded in that vicinity. Even though the nightmare could not touch or affect Ryan, it was real enough to make the Green Ranger run alongside his parents in a bid to escape the derailed train. Sparks, blood, and severed limbs, an image Ryan would never forget-then and now-as the nightmare unfurled. The Feldings had barely escaped the danger there. Yet, with no escape possible for them, Martin and Lia began to feel a sense of hopelessness. The young incarnation of Ryan screamed, with no chance of consolation.

"Goldar," Rito laughed, cruelly, pointing at the Felding family. "I hate noisy brats! Shut that kid up!"

Ryan, the real Ryan, gasped in horror as he watched the monsters turn their attention to his family. They were advancing on his parents. They were going to kill his parents! Ryan unfolded his gun and converted it into knife mode, he couldn't let them hurt his father! Ryan ran, howling like a crazed warrior, intent on taking Goldar down.

Goldar chuckled menacingly, advancing slowly towards the last surviving group of people in the station. Martin pushed Lia and his young son behind him, stepping out, desperate to keep the monster away. He swallowed hard, beads of sweat upon his brow. As a man, and a father, he knew then and there that he was about to make a desperate, heroic, sacrifice in the hopes that they would survive. Ryan pounced, blade gleaming, he was throwing all of his force into this attack-foolishly. The youth passed right through the apparition, landing hard upon the ground. When he looked up, he heard Lia scream and watched the sword glide across his father's stomach in what looked like slow motion. Martin Felding collapsed to the hard ground below, dead and disemboweled.

"NO!" screamed Lia, watching her husband die and crumble before her while shielding her son's eyes from it. Little did she know that her son was witness to the whole ordeal fifteen feet away, catatonic from the horror he had just witnessed. She shook with maddening sobs, holding her child tight. The end, it was coming for the both of them. "Martin! We're coming soon," choked Lia, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her sobs were suddenly stifled when Goldar's blade plunged into her abdomen, impaling her and piercing a lung. He withdrew the blade, not knowing he had missed the toddler in her arms. Blood poured from her mouth as she choked and gurgled, pink froth bubbling due to the pierced lung. Lia Felding, Thomas Oliver's sister, collapsed to the ground, on top of her child. The mother had died and the child had been knocked unconscious. However, it was this tragic circumstance that saved young Ryan's life. The monsters had assumed him dead and prepared to leave the Heaven's Gate terminal, believing that they left no survivors.

"No," Ryan muttered, repeating endlessly. This vision, this horror, he could not fathom what had transpired. In an instant, the happy and carefree people were scattering in terror as monsters cut them down. The people who weren't cut down were- "crushed beneath the cars," he whispered, mirroring his Uncle Tom's words spoken a mere hour ago. This terrible tale he so desperately ran away from, not wanting to hear, it forced its way upon him. Now, no matter how hard he might try to forget, Ryan had seen it all. This attack was sudden, instantaneous. _There's no way Uncle could have saved us in time, _he thought to himself. This trauma, with no one left to blame, now weighed heavily upon his soul. Tears pooled in his eyes and streamed along his cheeks silently as he began to hyperventilate, clutching his tightening chest. This pain, where would it go? And then, something inside of him broke. All he could feel now was the icy rage that now numbed his insides.

"You worthless motherfuckers," he snarled, standing up and pointing at the monsters.

What took Ryan by surprise was that they turned toward the sound of his voice. Now, of all times, they could see him, hear him. The area began to distort and shimmer around him, the light suddenly going out once the distortion ceased. The bodies, the blood, his parents-all of it was gone. It looked like he was back in the present, it was 2011 again. He gasped as the monsters began to change in color. Goldar's armor turned black, as did the bones of Rito. A dark aura exuded from both creatures, the visage of purple flames.

"What a foul mouth, so unbecoming for a Power Ranger," growled Goldar, laughing derisively, his voice now guttural and demonic. With the same inflection and change in voice, Rito added, "Let's rip him apart. No survivors."

"Insects," Ryan spat, his voice an octave lower than his usual way of speaking and iced over with hatred, "I'm going to enjoy maiming you both."

They ran towards the Green Ranger, both swords drawn, as Ryan ran to them, howling with every bit of rage and animosity pouring from him. He leapt high into the air, soaring towards Rito, as he switched his Blade-blaster back into gun mode. Ryan had poised himself for a flying kick and then began to fire shots from his blaster into Goldar. The green blasts made impact, causing the demonic ape to stagger backwards as sparks flew out of him. The impact of his feet upon Rito's torso caused him to redirect his aim and fire into the skeleton monster he just kicked. While firing in midair, he regained his footing during his descent back to the ground. Rito was knocked back and then toppled over, landing on his backside. Behind the visor, Ryan glared at the ape he had failed to knock over.

* * *

Naomi panted, recovering from the shots fired at her. They didn't knock her down, but she was sure Milo was in a lot of pain from that flying kick she took to the chest, followed up by shots from Ryan's blaster. Ceres used her brother's car to drop her and Milo off. Virgil didn't want to be involved and Ceres offered to drive him home, requesting a phone call or text message if the need for her arose. Naomi praised herself for the idea to morph beforehand. Not only did they have to break the shutters, but now they had to defend themselves from a crazed Green Ranger.

When they came in, they found Ryan writhing upon the floor. Milo had asked him if he was okay, only for him to stand up and curse them both. At first, it seemed like typical Ryan behavior, until he expressed the joy he would have in maiming them both right before he broke into a run towards them, executing that last attack. Now, recovering from the initial assault, Naomi was unsure of what to do. That was until she noticed the violet stains upon the Ryan's ranger suit, slowly overtaking the green. He was clearly corrupted by this Dead Zone Tom had mentioned earlier. She gasped as Ryan charged towards her.

Milo stood up, slowly, winded from taking a kick to the chest and being shot repeatedly. What had gotten into Ryan? Why was he attacking them like this? Sure, he never liked them from the beginning, but, why the malice? He was trying to kill them. As much as she didn't want to hurt him back, she wasn't going to stand idly and take a beating from him either. Without speaking, she willed the Power Sword to materialize in her right hand.

"Milo!" cried Naomi, fending off the onslaught of kicks and punches Ryan was directing towards her with blocks and evasive maneuvers. "Ryan," she ducked, avoiding a left hook, "isn't", she leapt back, materializing her personal weapons, the Power Daggers into her hands, "in his," she pivoted on the balls of her feet, narrowly avoiding a front kick from the youth, "right frame of mind!"

As she exclaimed those words, she slashed his torso and sent him sprawling. Sparks flew off of his suit and it protected him from being cut. Naomi had little choice but to counterattack and gain distance from him. This was bad, she didn't want to harm her comrade, yet, he was leaving her very little choice. Tom and Violet were on their way, she hoped they would arrive soon. Maybe Tom knew what was happening. For now, they'd have to try to incapacitate him before he ended up seriously hurting one of them.

"Yeah," Milo scoffed, aiming her sword, defensively, towards an advancing Ryan as she stepped sideways in an attempt to circle him. "I wasn't sure I caught on to that, you know, when he was threatening to MAIM us."

* * *

"Stop laughing at me!" he growled, Rito sidestepping him in an attempt to encircle him. All the while Goldar was laughing raucously from landing a successful hit upon him a moment ago. These bastards, they were going to beg for their deaths by the time he was through with them. Killing his parents and then mocking him as they fought? Unforgivable!

"I will kill you both!" he screamed, converting his Blade-blaster into knife mode as he ran towards Rito. Before he could strike the monster, it retaliated by striking him across the chest with its sword. Pain screamed through him as his chest muscles throbbed. Though he was protected from being sliced open, the force of the attack was still painful enough to cause him to rear back, holding his chest. "Bastard!"

"Agh!" he cried out, Goldar striking him from behind with his fist and then sword. Searing pain roared out through the rest of him as he stumbled forward. He was foolish to leave his back exposed to an enemy. Fighting them in tandem, it was difficult. The strange thing was, it felt like they were trying to knock him out. A moment ago, they were ruthlessly slaughtering his family and other innocent bystanders. What was going on? Were they toying with him? Ryan angrily ground his teeth, infuriated by the monsters.

* * *

"Milo!" cried Naomi, feeling ambivalent about striking Ryan's neck. "I can't knock him out, he won't go down!"

Milo was distraught, she didn't know what to do. Ryan was resilient, but, she was terrified that he would die on his feet if they kept attacking him like this. For some reason, he was determined to defeat them at all costs. Just what was going on inside that mind of his? Milo rushed in at Ryan, slashing him repeatedly with her sword while she cried out desperately each time. When he staggered back, she threw the sword aside and started punching him in the gut with every bit of force she had. "Go down, stay down!" she cried out, striking him again and again. She stopped abruptly when she felt the barrel of his Blade-blaster press into her stomach. Behind the visor, the Red Ranger's eyes widened as he pulled the trigger at point blank range. Milo flew back and hit a concrete pillar, the pain white hot and enough to induce the urge to vomit. As everything went dark, she lamented her failure before falling unconscious.

"Milo!" cried Naomi, feeling the onset of terror creep over her. With Ryan berserk and able to take down Milo, what chance did she have? She began to back away from him, terrified.

Ryan laughed cruelly and uttered, "Not so tough without your friend, now I'm going to kill you."

"Ryan! Enough!"

Naomi and Ryan both jerked their heads towards the source of the stern voice. It was Uncle Tom with Violet at his side. His arms were crossed and his countenance was enraged, yet holding a slight hint of concern. Naomi deduced that Tom wasn't aware of the full extent to which the Dead Zone was affecting his nephew. She wasted no time in rushing to Milo's aid and drug the fallen Red Ranger to where Tom and Violet stood.

"Are you trying to kill them?" Tom exclaimed, gesturing to the Red and Yellow Ranger. "Just what the hell is going on?"

Ryan growled, pointing his weapon at Tom as he stepped in a little closer, "How dare you!"

Tom gasped, his heart hammering within his chest. He wasn't expecting Ryan to turn on him with his Ranger system. Something was definitely off here. This Dead Zone was awake, but, he still did not know what was going on. Was Ryan possessed by it? Was it trying to feed off of his nephew's soul? Was-

"It's trying to take back the only survivor," whispered Tom, to himself.

"Sympathizing with the enemy, Tom. You wanted my parents to die."

Tom shook his head, not knowing what Ryan was talking about. He sounded as though he had gone completely insane.

"Calm down, buddy," Tom urged, holding his hands out towards his nephew twenty feet away.

"I will not calm down, you're saving them and letting them escape!" he cried as a burning, violet, aura erupted from him. The entire station began to rumble. "This," he began, snarling as the dark aura burned intensely.

"Naomi, Violet," Tom said, softly, "get Milo out of here. This could get bad really, really fast."

"But, Tom!" Naomi gasped, knowing that he had no powers and could easily be killed.

"Just go!" he yelled, stepping away from them. Naomi and Violet fell silent, reluctantly making their exit up the stairs with an unconscious Milo.

"ALL OF YOUR FAULT!" Ryan screamed, rage erupting and filling every corner of the ruined terminal. It was in that moment that golden shoulder armor materialized upon him. Its master had found the strength to make the call and the Dragon Shield had answered.

**End of Chapter Nine **


	11. Inner Light

**Chapter Ten: Inner Light**

Tom swallowed hard, watching his nephew become consumed by the Dead Zone. Was Ryan going to come out of this situation intact? Would the Dead Zone feast on his spirit? What could be done to stop this? Would he have to kill him out of mercy? Even if it all came down to that, how could it be done if he hadn't been a Ranger in over fifteen years? As a fatherly figure, all of these questions played through his mind in a constant loop. He watched Ryan surge with power, hell, the Dragon Shield had appeared upon the young man's shoulders. Here he stood, amidst the impending darkness, powerless and vulnerable. The retired Ranger balled his hands into fists, tightly. The anxiety was lodged into his throat enough to be tasted and his heart raced fiercely. He didn't want to hurt the boy that he had raised since-since it all began right here. Resolve flashed in Tom's dark eyes, action had to be taken. Even if he had no powers, even if he would die by Ryan's possessed hands, he was going to beat the Dead Zone energy right out of him.

There were no words to say in this moment. Instead, Tom could only charge towards the Green Ranger that stood ominously, preparing to kill him in the name of his fallen parents. Just what had happened before they arrived? Ryan declaring that the death of his parents was entirely on his shoulders, it only served to remind Tom of the horrible things he had said to himself since that day. He took note of the deep violet splotches upon the otherwise green suit as his nephew's right leg raised, snapping towards him in a swift kick that intended to snap his neck. As he deflected the kick with his left forearm, Tom cried out like a warrior as he sent his fist towards Ryan's gut. Those stains upon Ryan's suit, by his logic, served to represent the Dead Zone's attempt to infect the poor boy's heart. Somehow, the boy's Ranger powers were fighting with the sentient malevolence at play. Pain rippled though his hand as the white, gloved, fingers had absorbed his punch and coiled tightly around his fist. Tom winced, amazed at the display of inhuman strength his opponent was exhibiting.

Behind the visor, Ryan smiled with sadistic delight as he watched Tom's face contort from the pain. He slowly twisted more and more, wanting to hear the bone in Tom's wrist snap from the unnatural range of motion. At the same time, Tom was cursing himself for allowing such weakness to be exploited. Ignoring the pain, Tom stepped in closer and sent his elbow flying into Ryan's unprotected throat. A perk of being a retired Ranger against an active Ranger was that he still knew the weak points of the outfit. His nephew staggered back, releasing his grip on Tom's hand, as the blow was immersed within the element of surprise. Before Ryan could react, Tom leapt up into the air and twisted his torso to build momentum for a spinning kick. His foot made impact upon the side of the Green Ranger's head and he realized then and there, as he landed gracefully upon his feet, that his attacks were useless. The kick dealt no damage and Ryan laughed it off as his head only tilted slightly. How could Tom even hope to stand a chance when his opponent hardly seemed human?

"I grew up believing that you were the toughest man alive," Ryan began, a guttural voice superimposed over his own. He stepped in close and raised his leg to Tom's torso in a swift front kick. "I was wrong."

Tom felt the immensely powerful kick strike his torso and he was sent flying back until he slammed into the nearest train car on its side. When one is kicked with such godly force and then their flight is suddenly halted by a large piece of metal- as Tom's would not hesitate to recount in the future -it fucking hurts. He yelped, feeling the pain scream to every corner of his body. The pain was overwhelming, paralyzing, as he slumped to the concrete floor, collapsing into the dented railcar. It was hard to breathe, that attack had knocked the wind out of him. He clutched his chest, amazed that his bones weren't broken or that his spine was still intact. This couldn't go on longer, the malevolent energy feeding upon his son's darkened heart was bent on forcing Ryan's hand to destroy him. He smiled in that moment, realizing he had mentally referred to Ryan as his son. Yes, that boy was the closest thing to a son he'd ever have. Be damned if he'd let the only loved one he had fall into darkness like this! Tom closed his eyes and turned his head away from Ryan.

"Ryan," Tom gasped, his breath heavy from having it knocked out of him, rising to his feet. His gaze fixed upon the Green Ranger consumed in his fiery aura of deep violet. "I won't let you lose yourself to this! Whatever it is!"

Tom's breath snagged as a familiar sensation moved through him. "Zordon?" he whispered, sensing the long deceased presence within Ryan. How was this possible? These Dead Zones, what was their purpose for existing? What was their pattern? Was his imagination fooling him? No, he knew what he sensed in that moment. Somehow, some way, Zordon was tied into this, he was sure of it. Yet, Zordon represented purity and this-this energy- it was corrupted. It didn't make any sense and now he was determined to learn more about these Dead Zones. So far, he noticed that both the Mansion and the Heaven's Gate terminal were deeper than just being connected to Ryan. Yes, they seemed to correlate with the day that many civilians paid the price for their war with the forces of darkness. At least, that was the theory the evidence could support at this point. He smiled wryly, realizing what he was doing just now. In the face of potential death, he was still finding himself enticed by prospective research.

"Ryan," he chuckled, tightening his hands into fists as they hung at his sides. "Hold tight, little buddy. Uncle's going to save you, somehow. I promised to always keep you safe then and I will hold fast to that promise until the day I die."

"Today then?" Ryan replied, his voice dripping with the same menacing inflection from the last set of words he spoke. The Green Ranger, eager for the kill, then charged towards Tom with his arm drawn back to strike him down.

_This isn't Ryan talking,_ Tom thought, planting his stance firmly, defensively. _Ryan and I have had words many times, but he'd never wish me harm like this. _Watching Ryan close the distance seemed to play in slow motion for Tom. He couldn't even faze Ryan like this and he could barely defend against him either. In this moment, Thomas Oliver felt a new kind of terror. Not for himself, or his own safety, but a selfless worry for what would become of Ryan if no one could stop him. There was a dangerous possibility that Ryan could be lost forever. _I'm scared. Ryan, I love you. I need to protect you. I'm so useless. Then and now._

Tom inhaled sharply, raw power pulsing through him. This sensation, it was familiar, comforting, and impossible. His coin and morpher were drained fifteen years ago. Tom's days as the White Ranger were over long ago. The power was lost, gone forever. Or was it? Opposite to Ryan's dark aura, an aura of light surrounded Tom which made the Green Ranger pause to observe. The white aura danced around him akin to the flame of a burning candle. That electric stir tingling within his chest, it felt like- was he morphing? How in the hell was he able to pull that off without a morpher? Four white silhouettes materialized around Tom, revolving around him until finally converging upon his frame. This was definitely a different style of transformation for him, but it wasn't everyday that someone morphed without a morpher! As the silhouettes of the White Ranger suit merged upon him, the white fabric crept over his body as the hard, black and gold, torso armor with an emblem at the center materialized upon him. His helmet, bearing the likeness of a tiger, appeared, enclosing over his head. A golden band appeared upon each forearm and calf while a sword materialized, hanging from his belt. Tom looked down at the sword, smiling like a kid on Christmas. The hilt of the blade, a tiger's head, it was Saba! For the first time in fifteen years, the White Ranger stood proudly where Tom once was. He had to admit it, coming out of retirement sure felt good.

Ryan, unsure of what the light was at first, now decided to continue with his attack. The remainder of the distance closed between them with his quick steps and he snapped his first towards Tom's throat. Ranger or not, he was still going to die. The traitor deserved his fate! Aiding the enemy in their escape. That's why his parents weren't saved. Tom wanted them dead! He'd avenge them right here and now! His eyes widened when Tom caught his fist, displaying a strength he did not possess mere moments ago.

"Ryan, snap out of it buddy," Tom pleaded, clutching Ryan's fist with his right hand as he coiled the fingers of his left hand around Ryan's forearm.

"Snap out of what, exactly! You're at fault! You ruined my life! I HATE YOU!" Ryan growled, trying to rip his arm away from Tom's grip.

Instinctively, Tom spun on his heels, to the right, and pushed all of his core strength into swinging Ryan around, his hands using Ryan's arm like a lever. Howling like a berserk warrior, Tom ran with Ryan, still lifted from the floor, and smashed his nephew into a concrete pillar. The support column cracked and Ryan grunted as he collapsed, signifying the pain Tom had inflicted upon him. Considering how hopeless it all seemed moments prior, Tom was thrilled to now have something of an upper hand. Maybe, just maybe, he could defeat Ryan and break the Dead Zone's influence. At the same time, he wondered if this was a form of child abuse. _Have fun explaining that one to a Social Worker_, he mused facetiously, waiting for Ryan to get back up. Part of him hoped that his nephew would stand up and be snapped out of this trance. Yet, he became aware of his own naiveté as he could still sense the ill intent pervading from Ryan. He could not let his guard down, or mentally crack wise, this fight was not over yet. Tom raised his fists defensively as his nephew got back up.

"Bastard!" Ryan spat, lunging towards his Uncle and wrapping his arms around the White Ranger's abdomen. Tom struck at Ryan with his fists, landing blows upon his sides and shoulders, to no avail, as the youth lifted him off of the ground and began to run.

Tom cried out in pain as he was smashed into a different pillar. Had he not been in his suit, he surely would have been killed by that blow. Dear god, his back was going to need a readjustment after this. Chunks of concrete fell around him while he resisted the urge to crumple to the floor. Tom's eyes widened as he saw Ryan's left hook come toward the side of his helmet. As he ducked, Ryan's fist struck the concrete pillar and knocked a large dent out of the corner as his fist landed upon it. _Even though he telegraphs his attacks, that boy is pure power, _thought Tom, assessing his opponent, as he stood erect from his crouch and launched a powerful side kick into Ryan's stomach with his left foot, throwing his weight, all of his weight, with it. The attack seemed successful until Ryan caught his leg and held on. The more Tom tried to pull himself free, the tighter Ryan held on until finally tossing him into the air with all of his might. The ceiling and floor became blur as Tom flipped through the air. Ryan laughed menacingly, leaping above his airborne Uncle, performing a front flip to multiply his momentum, bringing his right heel down into Tom's gut, and driving him down into the floor. The concrete buckled and cracked beneath Tom's body, forming a small crater. To say that Ryan's last move was devastating was an understatement.

Clutching as his sides, Tom rolled over as the waves of pain continued to ripple through him. He had to get up, he had to keep fighting. The White Ranger staggered to his feet, taking notice of how Ryan stood there, watching him intently. The violet splotches, they were growing in size. This did not bode well, he needed to turn the tides of this battle, quickly. Clutching the hilt of his sword, he removed it from his belt and assumed an offensive stance.

"Tommy!" cried Saba, awakening in his master's hand. "You've aged."

"Been a while, buddy," chuckled Tom, preparing to move in and reengage his opponent. "You see that Green Ranger standing over there. That's my nephew and he needs our help."

"What happened?" Saba asked, his tone concerned. Well, as concerned as a talking sword could be.

"The scene of the Heaven's Gate Massacre became a site of dark energy recently. The dolt rushed in head first and now he's possessed by it," Tom explained. "I think I can snap him out of it if I knock him out, but we're on borrowed time. Once the dark stains overtake his suit, I'm pretty sure it's game over."

"Dire indeed," replied the sword, validating his master's concern. "We'd best get to work then."

Ryan growled, breaking into a run towards them. Tom rushed towards the Green Ranger, slashing the blade across his chest. Sparks flew from where the sword made impact and Ryan staggered back. A direct hit, it was time to change the course of this fight and finish it. Another blow landed upon the Green Ranger, evoking the same result. The White Ranger let out a war cry, striking his foe repeatedly. As Ryan stepped away, Tom stepped in closer. The onslaught waged on as Tom refused to sacrifice his momentum.

"I think it's working, I can see the stains shrinking on his suit," declared Saba, impressing Tom with his attention to detail. Especially since he was the instrument used to strike Ryan repeatedly.

Tom continued his assault, feeling a twinge of remorse for hurting his nephew like this. Yet, it was this or letting Ryan lose his soul. The circumstance deemed this course of action necessary. When he ceased to pummel the youth, he noticed that all of the violet staining had disappeared. Ryan wobbled on his feet, seeming to be on the verge of unconsciousness. Was it over now? Did he succeed in saving the boy? To answer that internal query, the violet aura erupted from Ryan with a greater intensity than ever before. This had to be it, the opening for that final blow to purify the Dead Zone and save Ryan. Saba began to vibrate in his hand, the blade casting a luminous white aura that banished the darkness within every corner of the ruined terminal. Orbs of light began dancing around the blade as Tom coiled back, delaying for but a second, and sprung towards Ryan with all the ferocity of a predator. Raising the blade high above his head, Tom brought it down upon the dark aura. In a brilliant explosion of light, Ryan was sent flying back as Tom cleft the darkness, causing the malevolent aura to disperse. He had won, the Dead Zone was purified and Ryan was saved. The ominous, chilling, sensation of even being here had vanished. The Green Ranger landed upon the ground, rolling several times before coming to a halt and reverting-beaten unconscious, but still breathing.

Tom stood panting, his chest heaving up and down. This bout had left him exhausted, yet he took satisfaction in the fact that he did not fail Ryan, not this time. "Old friend," he said, meeting Saba with the utmost gratitude, his voice breathy from the intense fight. "Thank you."

The Ranger garb faded from his body, Tom standing in place of the White Ranger as he stared at his now empty hands. He had transformed into the White Ranger after all of these years, it was astonishing. Would he ever transform again? His inner light seemed to respond to his need and distress, enabling him to save the only person he had left. For that alone, he was eternally grateful. His brown eyes fixed upon the collapsed youth who looked just as he found him all of those years ago, the day that Goldar and Rito killed his sister and brother in-law. It was a tragic day that left him with a scar he could never heal. Yet, becoming Ryan's father had caused him to grow in ways he never could have imagined. To have Ryan so close, it was the only good that had come from all of that pain. No matter what, he'd always be there for him. As much as Tom did not approve of Ryan becoming a Ranger, he would do his best to support Ryan and the team from here on out. He kneeled beside Ryan, making sure the boy was okay.

"Let's go home, Ryan," Tom said softly, smiling as he scooped his nephew into his arms. Rising to his feet, Tom slowly moved towards the entrance, carrying Ryan out of the Heaven's Gate terminal just as he did fifteen years before.

**End of Chapter Ten**


	12. Have a drink on me

_**Author's note**__: Well, I did promise I wouldn't make you wait four months. The hiatus lasted for five. I apologize. University has been an absolute cluster- well, you know. Anyway, I am pleased to present you with this latest chapter. It may lack action, but I feel that it offers plenty of character development and is quite rich in dialogue. Enjoy! Oh, and be sure to check out B Samurai's 'Kamen Rider Lespid' if you happen to like Virgil as much as I do.  
_

**Chapter Eleven: Have a drink on me**

In a competition between the din of the crowd and the hair metal that poured from the jukebox, it was a stalemate. The music, barely audible, merely served as a backdrop and distraction from the raucous, yet inaudible, conversations. The scents of liquor and sweat mingled, merging into its own unique aroma-often associated with these sorts of pubs. The venue itself housed several billiard tables, touch screen slot machines, and a wall mounted flat-screen television for each mainstream sport.

Ceres had her eye on the television relaying highlights on football, one of her favorite sports, while balancing her mobile phone in the palm of her right hand. The device vibrated, relaying the update she had been waiting for anxiously. Her gaze locked upon the illuminated screen as she read the incoming text message.

* * *

_**From**__: Milo_

_**To**__: Ceres_

_**Message**__:_

_hey... we just got in. ryan is safe but we almost lost him._

* * *

"Hey," Ceres announced, looking away from the phone to grab Virgil's attention. "They found him and brought him home. I guess they barely made it out."

Virgil cradled the cup of whiskey and ice upon the surface of the light grey table, failing to look up from it and acknowledge what Ceres had said to him. The young man had remained downtrodden since the demise of his Rider System earlier in the day. Ceres was kind enough to accompany him, even offer him the distance he needed to ponder everything that had happened. She didn't press him to talk, he liked that.

He raised his stare from the drink and casually glanced at the busy side of the bar, the space where the billiard tables were being used. Bar patrons were happily gaming, playing for fun or profit. That half of the lounge was carpeted and dimly lit by overhead lamps. Come to think of it, the whole lounge was lit that way. He took note of surrounding walls decorated with fake mahogany panels from the floor to about five feet high-the rest of the walls painted pale grey. It honestly looked as though it were comprised of real wood. The side they occupied had tables and the bar itself, the floor was tiled and stark white. The seats were empty as it wasn't quite dinner time in Angel Grove. Hell, it wasn't even close to dark yet.

To drink in broad daylight, that was the kind of day Virgil Cross was having.

"Yeah?" he replied, finally.

Ceres was busily fashioning a reply, seeming to ignore him for the moment.

* * *

_**From: **__Ceres_

_**To: **__Milo_

_**Message:**_

_That's good to hear. What happened exactly? Did you purify the dead zone?_

* * *

As she pushed send, she set the phone down upon the table and flashed her drinking compatriot a playful smile. Her strong hands coiled her fingers around the glass of whiskey as she lifted it to her lips and swallowed a generous amount. She savored the taste of the alcohol as it flowed within her. Ceres set the empty glass upon the table and smirked, signifying that the crisis was over. Letting loose would not be frowned upon now, it was okay to have a little fun.

"It speaks," she said, unrepentantly, not afraid to tease him for the brooding she had to endure.

"Yes, it does," Virgil chuckled, following suit with his drink.

As he set the empty glass down, he grazed his tongue over his teeth while choosing his next set of words.

"They still had some trouble. Maybe you should have helped them after all," he said, ruefully. "I didn't mean to be such a pain in the ass."

Ceres scoffed, waving her right hand dismissively.

"I wouldn't bother worrying about it," she said, sounding more like and order than a courteous reply. "They made it out okay and you have every right to be upset, Virgil."

He said nothing, removing his gaze from the blonde woman across the table. There was a great deal on his mind. Only she picked up on that, it seemed. Ceres clearly cared enough to offer her support, her presence. Still, he had shirked his responsibility as a Power Ranger; even if he didn't want to become one. The young man sighed, looking back to her.

"I am, I guess," he confessed.

A moderately attractive woman with heavy make-up and hair extensions strutted to their table. She had long, dark, hair and a sizable bust line. The waitress was adorned in a black tube top as well as a black mini-skirt. As Virgil's gaze traced from her black pumps, knee stockings, to her bust line, and then her slender, angular, face, he smiled politely.

"Can I get you two some more?" she asked sweetly, her voice shrill and her vowels slightly extended.

"Yeah, top us off. We'll be here a while, so keep'em coming," Ceres answered, winking at her.

The waitress nodded, smiling as she collected the empty glasses and moved on.

"Did you just hit on her?" Virgil asked, pleasantly puzzled by his new friend's behavior.

"I go both ways," Ceres replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

The phone vibrated on the table. Her right hand snatched the phone intently.

* * *

_**From: **__Milo_

_**To: **__Ceres_

_**Message:**_

_he got corrupted by the dead zone and went berserk. we almost got beaten by him. tom came and somehow transformed into his old white ranger power. he was able to stop ryan and purify the deadzone. we might have lost ryan if it weren't for tom. how is virgil? he seems sad. =(_

* * *

Meanwhile, Virgil sat in his seat, processing her sexual orientation. He was more surprised that she had a preference for the male variety; he could have sworn she was a lesbian. Well, in a way, he was right. She did admit that she felt an attraction to both. That was pretty damn hot, actually.

The young man gave her a measuring look. She wasn't manly per se. No, she was feminine, but powerful. If he could compare Ceres to any mythological figure, he'd likely compare her to Athena, they shared an aura of wisdom and power. For Ceres to be in a long lasting relationship, one would have to not be intimidated by her alpha personality. That made him curious, was she seeing someone? He found her gloriously hot, but he knew right away that they were better off as friends. Any kind of relationship would not work and this fast friendship was definitely something he didn't want to sour. As he parted his lips to ask her that personal question, he saw that she was working on a reply to Milo and politely waited for Ceres to finish.

* * *

_**From: **__Ceres_

_**To: **__Milo_

_**Message:**_

_Whoa. We're lucky to have Tom. There's a lot we can learn from him. As for Virgil, he's fine. I think he's taking the loss of his Rider System pretty hard. I'll cheer him up. And don't worry, I know you're into him. Not my type. I caught you making eyes. I'll put in a good word. Good night! XOXO_

* * *

"Text much?" Virgil asked sarcastically, watching Ceres lock the keypad and pocket her phone.

"Not usually," she said honestly.

"I know, I know," Virgil laughed, leaning back as the same waitress came back to set their drinks upon the table. She was kind enough to bring them two glasses each, or efficient. Regardless, he thanked her before she walked away.

"Hey," Ceres began, raising her eyebrow curiously, "this is fairly upfront, but are you seeing someone?"

"That is upfront," Virgil agreed, grinning at the question. "I am not, presently. Why?"

"Milo," Ceres said, flatly. "She likes you, but she doesn't really know how to approach you. I might be overstepping, but it'll never happen if she keeps pussy-footing."

Virgil sighed, taking his mind back to what had happened in the afternoon. Milo had died and Azrael forewarned that the universe would retaliate, taking back Milo and more. He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands over his face.

"Oh," Ceres stammered, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's not that," Virgil said, lowering his hands and putting them on the table. He leaned closer to Ceres, resting his arms on the table. "Can I tell you something in confidence?"

Ceres nodded, leaning in to hear what he was about to say.

"Milo died."

"Fuck off," Ceres scoffed, taking his words as utter nonsense.

"I'm serious, Ceres," Virgil replied, shaking his head. "She died and I reversed it. That's why my system broke. It was damaged. It couldn't handle the strain of going into my hyper form."

She said nothing, she only listened intently.

"I lost my memories and thought that I had lived in Angel Grove my entire life, but I come from a place called Locksbury."

"Virginia," Ceres said, recognizing the name.

"Right," said Virgil. "Anyway, there were other Riders, like me. We fought these monsters... Dobatsu."

"Do-what?"

"Dobatsu," Virgil enunciated. "I don't remember everything, but now I know my memories of Angel Grove can't be trusted. Seeing Milo die, it brought back all of the hurt from seeing my friends suffer. I awakened my lost power, but my suit had been damaged from that war. I was never at full strength, I guess."

Ceres had nearly spit out her mouthful, but she was able to retain the whiskey and swallow it.

Her hands banged on the table. "You only fought with some of your power this whole time we've known you?"

"I think so," Virgil said, cautiously. "The thing is, I don't remember all of that. There was someone, another Rider. He did terrible things, but I can't picture his face."

"Or remember his name," Ceres interjected, finishing the sentence for him. "So you're an amnesiac, basically. And you're telling me that you have a painful past. You also had the power to undo Milo's death? How?"

"I manipulated time. I went back to the moment right before the skeleton's hand crushed her. Then, I threw her and Violet to safety so I could finish it off."

"Okay," Ceres said, taking a swallow of her drink as Virgil did the same.

"But," Virgil paused, lowering his head as he hesitated. "Something else happened."

"What do you mean?" Ceres asked, causing Virgil to raise his head again.

"He didn't freeze. Manipulating time doesn't affect Azrael."

"Did he fight you? Try to stop you?" she asked, wondering where he was going with this.

"No, he let it happen. He encouraged it," Virgil hissed, feeling disdain for the mystic that antagonized this city. "Azrael said that I was disrupting the balance of the universe itself. He told me that Milo's death was fate's design and that disrupting it could make worse things happen. The loss of any extra lives would be entirely my fault. But-but I couldn't let her die, you know?"

"You did the right thing," Ceres said, her voice firm. "He's trying to make you doubt your choices. I think he's lying."

"You do?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," she declared, smiling. "He was trying to get in your head. I bet your power threatened him. Hell, you threaten him. You're an asset to the team, Virgil. Tom knows it, even Ryan knows it. Azrael wants you to doubt yourself. He wants you to feel guilty. I guess, with your past, you feel cursed."

Virgil sat silently, not knowing how to respond. He took a drink from his second glass, pushing the empty one to the center of the table.

"You have misgivings and you probably think we're better off without you. We're not, Virgil. You have some experience. We need your help. I know that you're scared of losing us, but can you walk away from us? Can you walk away after meeting us, wondering if we're safe or not? Isn't it worse to do nothing?"

"I-"

"I am not going to tell you what to do. I just hope you'll be rational about this. Right now, you're emotional," Ceres interrupted. She was used to these sorts of conversations. On the police force, she had talked a handful of good men down from resignation. "Just think about it, okay?"

"Yeah, you're probably right," Virgil agreed, "but I need time. I'm worried about a lot right now."

"And I get it," Ceres replied, agreeing with him. "But you still have a power. A power that chose you. There has to be a reason that the morpher chose you. Tom said that it doesn't just choose anyone. Even if one of them chose Ryan. That was just a bad call. Ignore that example, please."

Virgil laughed, feeling somewhat uplifted. "You know, I appreciate your perspective, Ceres."

"If you like Milo, act on it. You'll regret it otherwise," Ceres commanded, right before polishing off her second glass of whiskey.

"I will, Ceres," Virgil chuckled, raising his glass. "You're pretty awesome, even though you decked me in the cafe. I think I might just forgive you."

"Hey now, I might have misjudged you," she laughed, shaking her head.

"Is that an apology?" Virgil asked facetiously.

"Eat me," Ceres spat, somewhat playful.

"I think that's a yes," Virgil chortled, finishing his last bit of whiskey.

Before Ceres could add to the witty banter, her phone vibrated yet again. Fishing it out of her pocket, she checked the screen and gasped.

"Shit, shit, shit."

Virgil cocked his eyebrow, watching Ceres curiously.

* * *

_**From: **__Alex_

_**To: **__Ceres_

_**Message:**_

_Hello, beautiful. I don't mean to stalk you, but you know how word travels in this town. I hear you're at a bar with some boy. That hurts, darling. As per usual, I fail to understand your mixed signals. At any rate, I do hope it's platonic with him. Yet, feel free to enjoy yourself as well. After all, I do respect your need for emotional distance._

* * *

"Milo again?" Virgil asked, breaking the silence. "Everything alright?"

Ceres shook her head and winced, annoyed with the sudden correspondence. "My boyfriend, well, kind of. We're seeing each other."

"Oh, I see," said Virgil, smiling like a fox. "You are taken then."

"Well, that's the problem," Ceres admitted. "He wants commitment, I don't. It's a fucking mess, honestly. I do like him and he is a catch."

"I've got time," Virgil said, leaning back casually. "You listened to me, after all."

"Just a minute," Ceres said, moving her fingers across the keypad.

* * *

_**From: **__Ceres_

_**To: **__Alex_

_**Message:**_

_It's platonic. I'm setting him up with a friend. Sorry for being unavailable lately. Come over tonight? I can make it worth your while._

* * *

"Alex," Ceres began, "he-"

The phone vibrated; a quick reply.

* * *

_**From: **__Alex_

_**To: **__Ceres_

_**Message:**_

_You promise? Oh, how I love it when you use sex to shut me up. Call when you're home. I'll not disrupt your social life. Ciao._

* * *

Ceres rolled her eyes and put the phone away, not before turning it off. She then looked to Virgil, who waited gracefully and patiently.

"As I was saying, Alexander is a political figure in Angel Grove. He's rich, worldly, elegant, but somewhat arrogant. It's a bit of a turn off sometimes," Ceres explained, graciously receiving another pair of whiskey-filled glasses from the trashy, yet insightful, waitress. Virgil also took his pair and thanked her. "He's in the running for mayor in the upcoming election. I think he's going to win by a landslide. Everyone adores him. My parents want me to marry him."

"Wait, wait," Virgil interrupted. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here. Alexander Orpheus? That guy? You're boning him?"

"That would be the one," Ceres laughed, sipping out of her whiskey glass.

"Dump him, I can't stand that guy," Virgil said, half joking. "Every time I see that glib bastard on the TV, I change the channel or turn it off."

"Oh come off it, Virgil," she giggled, waving at him dismissively. "He's a nice guy."

After a moment's pause she continued, taking the conversation in a more serious direction.

"You know, I was a cop and got shot quite a while ago. If it weren't for the top notch treatment that I got, I would be walking with a cane and shitting from a bag."

"You were shot?" Virgil exclaimed, causing some of the patrons to gawk at them.

Ceres rolled her eyes before glaring at the onlookers. They resumed going about their business. Her silver gaze rested upon Virgil once more, conveying complete sincerity.

"Three times," she answered, matter-of-factly. "I almost died and would have been crippled. Alex footed the bill and expects nothing in return. Even though we were only dating for a few weeks at the time. We barely knew each other, honestly."

"He doesn't?" Virgil asked, unconvinced.

"No, I've been a complete bitch to him sometimes and he still waits for me to come around. I swear, he almost gets off on the abuse. He thinks that the shooting caused me to have some emotional issues- I don't fucking know," she said, laughing nervously.

Her mind didn't want to go there, but the dark impulses she acted on still perturbed her. She had, in the beginning, selfishly used her powers and killed in cold blood. They were people who were as vile, if not worse, than the demons they've battled so far. Yet, they were still human. Ceres felt guilt, but who could she tell? The others, they'd judge her. She had to move from the subject, forget the past. Atonement could be found by continuing to be a hero. The only solace she had was that she removed rapists and murderers from the face of the Earth, but rationalizing was still a coping mechanism for the guilty.

After banishing the thoughts from her mind, she politely ended the conversation. "Well, enough about my sordid love life and shit like that. You're an amnesiac. We're both crazy. Let's drink to that, hey?"

"Cheers," said Virgil, clinking his glass to hers.

It was settled, he'd fight with the team. They were easy to like, well, most of them were. Ceres, she was real and down to earth. In truth, he felt glad to have a friend in her. He had a feeling that they'd become the best of friends in no time at all.

"You know," Virgil began, smiling impishly, "I think I'm going to ask Milo out tomorrow."

"Break her heart and I'll break your jaw," Ceres drawled, imitating a country music singer while pounding her right hand into the palm of her left hand. Though a joke, it also served as a polite reminder that she was always loyal to, and looking out for, her girls.

"Yikes," said Virgil, tugging at his collar playfully. "I'll definitely keep that in mind."

**End of Chapter Eleven **


	13. Interlude: The Fated Hour

_**Author's note:**__ Hey all! I am doing something a little different here. I was moving to the next chapter when I decided to open a different document and type this out. It's been in my head since the beginning of the story and I know that some of you are wondering what exactly happened to the Rangers of 1996. Well, it's time to reveal that right here and now. I was planning to reveal it at the halfway mark and that's where we are at right now. That's right, we are about to move into the second half of The Great Revival. I have tweaked things from the canon of the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers, but keep in mind that this is an alternate universe. Without further adieu, here is how Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers ended in my universe._

* * *

**Interlude: The Fated Hour**

_15 years ago..._

The ominous storm brewed above the city as black clouds billowed and red lightning flashed dangerously. Rain lashed against the six of them as they stood at the enraged coastline, heavy waves rising and falling. Gale force winds ripped against the city of Angel Grove, ripping unfortunate branches from their trees and peeling metal signs away like aluminum foil.

Lightning flashed again, silhouetting the bright colored warriors against the blackened horizon. They all stood, facing the sea and the approaching forces of evil. For the Power Rangers, this was the fated hour, the decisive battle.

"This is it," said Billy, his blue outfit embracing the subtle ridges of his muscled frame. "We can't go back from here. Whatever happens now-"

"Trust me," Tommy growled, balling his hands into fists, grief taking a backseat to bloodlust and revenge.

"No matter what the cost, they will pay," added the White Ranger, trailing off. "They will pay for all the lives they destroyed today!"

"I want this to be over," Aisha admitted, the yellow, synthetic, material outlining her feminine curves as she bowed her head. "All of those people...our fault," her voice broke, stifling hopeless sobs.

Adam remained silent, not wanting to add to the somberness of his team. The visor of his helmet served to hide his saddened countenance and also reminded him that, in this moment, he was the Black Ranger and nothing else. For this fight, what was likely their final fight, he would be stoic and powerful. His blood boiled and pulsed through all of his muscles, poised to spring upon whatever was thrown their way and tear it asunder.

"I still can't believe it," Katherine admitted, clasping her hands over her heart in a remorseful fashion. The Pink Ranger shook her head in disbelief. "Tommy's poor nephew and-and all of the bloodshed. Did we underestimate them? I just don't get it."

"We don't have to get it," Rocky replied, crossing his arms over his chest. The red fabric clung to him, outlining the contours of his form. He lowered his arms to his sides. "They declared war, upped the ante. I know Zordon said not to let this consume us, or whatever, but what the hell does he know about being human? You know? You just don't recover from this."

The Rangers fell silent, anticipating the approach of the next threat to befall the world. Since the Subway Massacre from earlier in the day, they had slain Goldar and Rito. There were also a handful of monsters that they had collectively-fiercely-dispatched. Lord Zedd had, upon the defeat of the last wave of monsters, issued a challenge to end the war once and for all, make the final stand. Tommy then belligerently accepted the challenge, much to Zordon's dismay. However, Zordon eventually conceded and warned them all to be careful, for the collected despair might have been enough to make the dark zord Serpentera unstoppable. Regardless, they had to make this stand, make the final effort to prevent such a widespread loss of life from happening again.

The ground began to tremble beneath them as the black clouds overhead started swirling. This signified the approach of the colossal mecha: Serpentera. The hulking, mechanical, dragon descended from the heavens, poised to annihilate Angel Grove in a single blast.

Yet, from the machine, Lord Zedd's voice boomed over the ensuing storm.

"Dearest Rangers," Zedd began, laughing. "You have all fought valiantly today, even going as far as terminating my elite. Instead of destroying the city and the planet right away, I will give you a chance to fight me. After crushing you for good, I will then do away with this wretched planet once and for all."

The metallic beast landed off of the coastline, about a mile out to sea. The menacing vessel stood on its hind legs, touching the floor of the sea while a great portion of it still protruded above the waterline. A large wave began to swell and scream towards the Rangers and defenseless city.

"A tsunami!" Billy exclaimed, raising his right hand high above his head. "We can't stop it, but we're no good to anyone if we're dead!"

"Call your Zords!" Tommy cried, raising his right hand as the others began to follow suit.

There was a luminous flash in each of their respective colors as portals to represent each Ranger color opened in various locations. Their battle mechs had been called forth. From the sky, a white portal opened to reveal a large metal Falcon. Within the city, a blue and red portal opened to unleash a mechanical wolf and a humanoid ape. The blue metallic wolf ran over the streets, leaping to clear overpasses while the robotic red mech ran alongside it, swords behind its back. A large black and silver frog followed behind, shaking the ground with each leap. The colossal yellow and black bear stomped towards the beach, meeting up with the rest of the land based mechs. As the four zords converged, a pink portal opened in the sky and a bird-like jet flew through it, the crane zord.

Without words, or the usual chanting preamble, the somber warriors leapt high into the air, each landing atop their machines. As the Rangers assumed control of the cockpits, the mechanical beasts began to levitate and change shape. The red ape formed into an arm, a glove materializing over the apes head. In a similar fashion the wolf folded into the left arm as a glove materialized over its head. The massive bear mecha formed into the torso, legs folding inward. The right and left arm of the Ninja Megazord attached to the torso, securely bonding with it. Simultaneously, the crane swooped down and folded its neck upwards to reveal the face of the Megazord. The crane's wings folded inward as it came down onto the torso and fused in place. The black and silver frog stood on its hindquarters and the legs became rigid. The front legs moved into the knees and locked in place as the frog's head turned down to become the hips of the Megazord. The upper body of the Ninja Megazord landed upon the lower body to complete the formation of the grand battle mech.

Five automated doors opened within the cockpit at the heart of the Ninja Megazord as the Red, Blue, Yellow, Pink, and Black Ranger's seats slid forward to their collective control panel. The Rangers wasted no time operating their share of the large robot, able to pilot the mech with the utmost cohesion.

The Ninja Megazord crouched down and leapt high into the air as the large wave of devastation swept over the beach, decimating cars and buildings that weren't reinforced enough to withstand it. A death toll was undeniable and the damages were going to be costly; however, the Rangers had no choice but to press forward and end this war of good and evil.

"Forget it," Rocky urged, his gaze behind the visor locked intently onto the large display screen. "We need to concentrate on the battle. Never mind what happens to the city, not yet."

A voice came over the communicator.

"Guys, I'm circling over now," Tommy began, piloting the Falconzord and lining it up with the back of the leaping Ninja Megazord. "We'll fly out and get Serpentera away from the city. We're less likely to lose any more citizens out at sea."

"Roger," Billy replied, fingers dashing across his control panel. "We're descending now, so speed it up. We need flight."

The Falconzord swooped down, connecting with the Ninja Megazord to form the Ninja Mega-Falconzord. The large mech began to glide over the churning waters as the sixth sliding door opened in the collective cockpit, Tommy in his chair moved in and the door closed behind him. As his fingers madly danced over the keyboards, hitting a variety of keys in succession, the robot flew towards Serpentera at a high velocity.

"We need to get around it so Serpentera's blasts fire west and away from land," Tommy stated, a large wake formed upon the water's surface while the mech flew low.

As they drew near, they were once again reminded by Serpentera's vastness; something akin to a trout versus a great white shark. Without having to say anything, wondering how to defeat the large dragon moved through the mind of each Ranger. The only weakness that Serpentera had was now eradicated and this zord would not be losing power any time soon. To defeat such an over-powered opponent, the outlook seemed hopeless.

"Any ideas?" Rocky asked Tommy, hoping the White Ranger had something planned.

"Not really," Tommy replied, in earnest.

The Ninja Mega-Falconzord ascended, flying up the side of Serpentera. The tips of the right wings flashed red, unleashing a volley of missiles that scattered, homed in, and exploded upon contact with the evil zord. The effects of the attack were infinitesimal, as expected.

The dragon's head reared and flashed with yellow electricity, unleashing a wave of energy from its mouth. The Ninja Mega-Falconzord banked right, dodging the blast and the rise of scalding water that erupted like a long dormant volcano coming to life. The mech ascended, they needed to take to the sky.

"Don't get hit," Tommy said, after his long pause. They were much too occupied with surviving to engage in small talk anyway. "That's all I've got right now."

The decorative head of Serpentera flashed its red eyes to signify that it was observing the ascent of the Ninja Mega-Falconzord. As a result, the gargantuan dragon lifted from the sea and took to the air, intent on pursuing its prey.

"I get it," said Billy, realizing what was happening as he smiled. "You want it out of the water so it won't make any more waves."

"Yeah," said Tommy, nodding as he concentrated on flying their robot. "I think we can out maneuver it in the sky and keep it away from Angel Grove."

Serpentera's eyes flashed crimson as golden energy collected at its maw. The Ninja Mega-Falconzord swiftly ascended into the storming sky, weaving around the flashes of lightning. Their pursuer discharged the beam of energy and the Power Rangers had their Megazord bank left, almost getting caught in the blast.

"Too close," sighed Billy, breaking the silence. "Normally, I'd suggest dodging until Serpentera ran out of power. But, with Zedd fixing that problem..."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed, angrily banging his fists on the panel.

"We find a weak point," Adam said, solemnly.

They rose above the clouds, over the storm. It was nightfall now, the stars shone beautifully in the heavens. Serpentera pursued diligently as the Rangers continued to gain altitude. The golden moon that hung in the sky was full, holding an ethereal, ominous, beauty. The Ninja Mega-Falconzord turned around to face their foe, fixing the cameras upon Lord Zedd's personal zord.

"Right, give me a few minutes to analyze the structure," Billy agreed, gliding his fingers over various buttons. "Think we can fly around it a few times? Once I complete the analysis, we may be able to defeat it."

"Leave it to us," Rocky laughed bravely, looking to Tommy. "Do your thing."

Tommy said nothing, now resting his hands on the levers and his feet on the pedals that would make him steer the whole mech more effectively. The team was trusting him, relinquishing their control in order to have him pilot much more efficiently.

They descended, flying right towards Serpentera. Tommy pulled the right lever towards him and then pushed the left lever forward, causing the mech to perform a barrel roll to its right. They now flew along Serpentera's underbelly, keeping the sensors locked onto it for the sake of Billy's analysis.

"Good," Billy said, appraising Tommy's ace piloting. "Now take us above it."

Tommy nodded, tilting the machine vertically as he pushed both levers forward and pressed his heels on the back of the foot pedals. They were behind Serpentera and the wings moved back and forth to brake the robot in midair. With a mighty wing beat, the Ninja Mega-Falconzord ascended over Serpentera, too large and slow to turn around; it was impossible for Lord Zedd to retaliate. As Tommy pulled both levers to himself, he tilted the pedals forward, they flew over the dragon's back.

Billy typed furiously, smirking behind the visor as the Nina Mega-Falconzord flew horizontally over the back of Serpentera. The analysis was complete.

"Good news and bad news," Billy began, not giving the others time to answer before speaking again. "I found the weak point, but we have to strike the head...repeatedly."

Unanimously, the six Rangers pushed a button that matched their respective color. It was time to unleash the energy to execute their finisher. The Ninja Mega-Falconzord held its arms forward as it charged towards the back of Serpentera's head, blue and red glowing in the mech's fists. In a flash of rainbow light, they struck their target with full force. Unfortunately, they delivered no noticeable damage upon Serpentera. Tommy had them lift off of Serpentera and fly alongside it, he would try again. They repeated the attack, striking the left side of their target's head this time.

"No good," Tommy muttered, realizing they dealt negligible damage to the godly zord.

They gained distance to avoid retaliation, yet Serpentera began to rise even higher. The direct attacks to its weak points had angered Lord Zedd. They had seen him use the power of his zord to destroy an entire world once before. Was he going to do it again? As the maw of the dragon began to surge with golden energy and rise above the Earth's atmosphere, the Rangers all experienced that grim realization.

"Oh no," said Kat, horrified. "He's going to destroy the whole planet!"

* * *

Amidst the flashing beacons and the alarm sounding off within the Command Center, the omnipotent floating head within the large glass tube remained calm. His gaze remained fixated upon the viewing globe across the room, revealing Serpentera's ascent to space in order to destroy the whole world. The outlook was grim and Zordon immediately knew that there was nothing the Rangers could do.

Lord Zedd had won.

"Alpha," Zordon finally said after a great period of silence. "The Rangers have fought well, but I realize that their power alone cannot deter the grim fate of Earth."

"Zordon," Alpha replied, his electronic voice shrill and agitated. "We're all doomed. What are we going to do?"

"Fear not, old friend," Zordon replied, smiling. "I knew that this moment would, one day, come. We need to forget our master plan and focus on protecting Earth."

A grim silence fell upon the room. The whirring of the computers could be heard, as well as the sirens of the alarm, and Alpha stood still, looking away from Zordon. The robot focused on the black, twinkling, backdrop that surrounded them. The blackness beyond the platform gave the illusion that he was standing in limbo, at the end of time. Yes, the experience of standing here in the Command Center was timeless.

"You know what you need to do, Alpha," Zordon boomed, ending the pause in conversation. "Teleport the Rangers to Angel Grove, route all of the morphing grid's power to the Ninja Mega-Falconzord, and set the Command Center to self-destruct."

"Zordon!"

"Alpha, it will shatter my tube. This is what needs to be done," Zordon said with finality.

From Alpha's golden, oblong head, red lights flashed across to signify that he was overriding his consciousness to fall into the state of a drone. Suicide was not his forte, he could not be conscious for what was about to transpire. He walked, purposefully, towards one of the many control panels.

"Directive one," Alpha began, pressing the keys in sequence. "Teleport Power Rangers out of Ninja Mega-Falconzord. Destination set: Angel Grove."

From the viewing globe, flashes of white, red, blue, black, pink, and yellow light could be seen moving out of, and away from, the Ninja Mega-Falconzord.

"Directive one: complete."

Zordon's eyes grew saddened when he realized what Alpha had done. He had erased his personality in order to fulfill the mission without hesitation. It was sad to see, but admirable at the same time. He watched the petit drone with a red torso move to the next panel across the room.

"Directive two," Alpha said. "Route all of the morphing grid's power to the Ninja Mega-Falconzord."

Alpha's black arms reached over to push all of the levers up to their maximum. All of the machines in the Command Center began to hum loudly as the platform shook.

"Directive two: complete," Alpha said, monotonously.

The small robot sidestepped over, setting its sights upon a large, red, switch. Alpha's hands fell upon the switch and he lingered there for but a moment.

"Directive three," said the robot, throwing the switch forward. "Initiate destruction of the Command Center. Passcode: contingency."

Blue electricity arced, leaping from panel to panel as the entire structure of the Command Center shook violently. Zordon winced in pain as the tube began to crack and fires ignited everywhere. Alpha walked over to the center of the platform and remained motionless.

"All directives complete. Powering down."

"Thank...you...old...friend," Zordon said, struggling to speak as the pain was nearly blinding.

Alpha's frame went limp and the lights upon him ceased flashing. When the destruction of the compound transpired, and the fire cleansed all, he would be peacefully dormant.

"Goodbye," Zordon said, right before explosions rocked the entire Command Center.

Flames erupted while bits of stone and metal scattered. This process carried on for several moments. The building shook, collapsing in on itself. A large piece of flaming rubble fell, landing on and destroying Alpha. Zordon closed his eyes as the final explosion not only destroyed the last of the Command Center, but also shattered the glass tube.

A brilliant flash of light blue energy was unleashed from the ruins of the Command Center, immediately taking to the sky.

* * *

The empty Ninja Mega-Falconzord hung limply in the sky. The pilots were abruptly ripped out and no one remained to assume control of it. In a matter of moments, it would cease function and plummet to the ground, enough of a distance to destroy it. With all of the morphing grid's power, a rainbow aura emanated, powerfully, from the mech. Would the demise of this machine mean the destruction of the source of power that the Rangers had? What was Zordon thinking to have the Rangers evacuated and then boost the power of the machine?

What happened next was unimaginable and immediately made sense. A vibrant burst of light blue energy ascended from the clouds below and flew into the mech. Its eyes flashed and retained a light blue glow. The machine began to move; Zordon was now one with the machine.

The Ninja Mega-Falconzord held its arms to its torso and compressed the bear bit with its hands, tearing away the steel piece held in the mouth of the bear, gravity pulled it down to the sea. Serpentera still charged its attack, but that's not what Zordon aimed for just yet. The machine beat its wings swiftly, rising higher into the sky. As it cleared the atmosphere, the visual display of the mech zoomed in upon the Moon Palace.

The bear's maw opened as rainbow energy began to collect within. The hands of the mech hovered at each side of the jaw, stabilizing the flowing energy. In one great discharge, the multicolored beam fired to the Moon and struck the palace. In that instant, the Moon Palace was vaporized and all of the occupants were killed, leaving a new crater upon the Moon.

All that remained now was the destruction of Serpentera. Then, and only then, would the war of good and evil on Earth be won. The grand dragon was still well above the Earth and the Megazord that Zordon inhabited, the attack ready to be fired. Without the time to hesitate, Zordon gathered the last of the morphing grid's power and flew towards Serpentera with extended arms.

Before Lord Zedd could fire the planet destroying attack, the Ninja Mega-Falconzord flew straight into its open mouth.

Amidst the destructive, golden, energy, pieces of the Ninja Mega-Falconzord's armor began to strip away and reveal the colorless skeletal structure. As the mech pushed deeper into the inner framework of Serpentera, Zordon caused it to self detonate. A brilliant flash ensued as Serpentera writhed and explosions erupted from the metal shell of the great beast. Within the cockpit, flames spewed and consumed the imposing creature with a metal exoskeleton and tubing around his exposed, red, flesh. Lord Zedd's day of reckoning had arrived, he was no more. The last of Serpentera blew apart in a brilliant flash of rainbow light.

The war had ended. Lord Zedd, Rita Repulsa, all of their minions, and Zordon himself had perished in the span of a single day.

A rainbow aura began to coat the Earth's atmosphere, an aurora that every human being would witness for days until it dimmed. This was Zordon's final will: a barrier to protect the Earth from any evil in the universe. Yet, could this barrier protect the Earth from the evil within?

In Angel Grove, the storm had diminished and the clouds parted. As the six Power Rangers, in human form, watched the lights flash and erupt from the rooftop of the Heaven's Way Hotel, a sadness fell over them. Their morphers had lost their light forever. But, with the aurora that lit up the night sky, they could feel the vestigial remains of Zordon's presence. With the end of the war and Zordon's presence guarding the Earth, they could all move on with their lives and follow their own pursuits-some more fruitful than others. Wherever their lives would take them, this chapter was over and they all knew it.

**End of Interlude**


	14. Welcome home, Billy!

**Chapter Twelve: Welcome home, Billy**

Throughout the vast lawns of Felding Manor, droplets of fresh dew clung to the vibrantly green blades of grass. The rising sun, and its light reflecting off the dew droplets, caused a myriad of sparkles to glitter upon the freshly trimmed lawn-overdue after the year and a half of neglect. Since the purification of the curse upon this property, it was safe to be here and have hired help maintain the grounds. Before the hectic events of yesterday, Tom had made the phone call to have the landscaping and yard maintenance performed, carefully reassuring the new contractors that the curse was simply a rumor. This worked well, for all parties involved. Not only did he regain the ability to maintain and take care of his nephew's inheritance, but his old training arena had been reclaimed since the Dead Zone had taken its hold all of those months ago.

Tom's chestnut gaze narrowed, focusing upon his halcyon sparring partner. The man before him stood tall, proudly, returning the gaze with his own blue stare. The man before Tom held an imposing build, though only a little larger than he. At one time, this powerfully built man, with closely cropped blonde hair, wore glasses and held something of a scholarly physique. Yet, over the course of fifteen years, laser eye surgery, personal trainers, private martial arts instructors, and an obscene amount of money had changed the man that Tom once fought beside.

"Oh, Tom," crooned William, "I know that I am a sight to behold, but I didn't think my sheer beauty would leave you paralyzed with admiration. Whoever will I spar with now? You're the only one who keeps me on my toes."

Tom cocked his eyebrow and shook his head at his old friend, smiling. He said nothing, but pulled himself into a defensive stance, planting his ankles firmly upon the ground and strategically placing his hands in front of him. The white, loose fitting, fabric of the karate gi enveloped his frame and served as the appropriate attire to practice in, offering Tom optimal range of moment for his match.

"What? Not funny?" William asked, feigning dejection before pulling himself into a similar stance, ten feet away from his old friend. The black fabric of his karate gi, parting at the chest with certain movements, slightly revealed muscles that William did not have in his days as the Blue Ranger. "Man, old age makes you annoyingly serious."

"Tighten up your gi, this isn't a photo shoot," Tom replied, scolding William as he would Ryan. This narcissism was nothing new to Tom. In fact, it was such a gradual transition that most who spent a great deal of time with William Cranston had failed to notice. "We just finished with the warm up, shall I lead?"

William had stood up straight, adjusting the uwagi and tightening the obi as Tom had spoke. After reverting to his own defensive stance, he smiled back at Tom. "Lead."

Without words, Tom rushed in towards William and leapt into the air. Tom pulled his left foot close to his groin as he bent the leg at the knee, keeping the right leg rigid with his foot extended. Tom flew towards William, who stepped to his left and let Tom pass him by.

"You never lead with the flying kick," William muttered, "did you get laid or something?"

Tom landed gracefully behind William, in a crouching position, with their backs turned to one another. As they both turned around swiftly, Tom used the momentum of spinning right to leap up and drive his left foot towards William's chest with a spinning kick. William parried the attack with his right wrist, executing a side block. As Tom came off balance and staggered in his landing, William laughed.

"My first wife hits harder than you just did, man," chuckled William, gently teasing his friend.

_Normally, the statement itself would be insulting,_ thought Tom.

"And how is Kimberly?" Tom asked, rising to his feet.

When his past lover returned to Angel Grove after years in Florida, what they had shared with one another was gone. They rekindled a slight friendship, and even slept together a few times, but Tom was raising Ryan and attending university to become a science teacher-he did not have much time for Kimberly. William and Tom attended university together and, out of all the other rangers, remained close. Yet, their friendship had been tested when Kimberly and William became intimate and eventually married. During all of this, William had finished university and developed the business sense to capitalize his technological genius and form many connections. For Tom, back then, it was difficult to stand up for his best friend at their wedding, but the era of Tom and Kimberly had long since passed. Moreover, he was an adult responsible for the life of a child, letting her go was the best thing he could have done at the time. It didn't take long for Tom to accept things as they were and become happy for his friends, eventually christening them as Ryan's god parents. In time, the gap between their socioeconomic statuses had heightened and he saw less of his friends. It was through a tabloid that he learned of their separation and ultimate divorce.

"Well, what can I say," William laughed, "happily rich in Manhattan with our settlement and a small percentage of Cranston Industries."

Despite losing touch with one another for a few years, William returned to California after the divorce and relocated the headquarters of Cranston Industries to Los Angeles. Yet, every time he came back to Angel Grove, it was like William came home; this was an event, a homecoming, that always made Tom happy, no matter what. A vast majority of his free time, when not inventing new gadgets, was spent seeing Tom and Ryan. Their ritual was often a vigorous warm up followed by a sparring match. Lately, however, William and Tom shared an interest in the return of the Power Rangers and the Deadzones that followed.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out for you," Tom replied sincerely.

"Well, what can I say? I should have known better about her. After all, the bitch went all 'Dear John' with you in High School. But, I learned a valuable lesson from it," William stated, mocking a serious tone.

"What was that?" Tom asked, interested in William's fleeting moment of seriousness.

"To make the other three wives sign prenuptial agreements," said William, breaking the solemn tone and smirking impishly. "Only Kimberly can steal from me, c'est la vie."

The two men shared a laugh for a good minute, both coming out of their fighting stances momentarily. It had been too long since their last visit and Tom had thoroughly enjoyed the morning. Only William could make him laugh like this. Despite the constant outpour of jokes, the occasional one landed and made Tom go into a laughing fit.

_Welcome home, Billy._

When the laughter ceased, William pulled back into a fighting stance.

"Continue?" William asked Tom, knowing that Tom would say 'yes'.

Tom returned to his fighting stance, toying with the idea of disclosing to William what he knew of the Power Rangers. Their identities as well as the fact that Ryan had become the new Green Ranger.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

As her eyes fluttered open, Ceres let out a yawn as she stretched out her limbs and scrunched her toes. The white bed sheet was soft, inviting, and warm. She fixed her gaze upon the digital alarm clock that rested atop an oak dresser, numbers still blurry. After waiting a moment, she could see the numbers clearly '07:15'. It was still early, she was going to go back to sleep. After a day like yesterday, she deserved to have a lazy day.

Though, it was nice to have a night with Alex too. She hadn't really contacted him since becoming a Ranger, so an exhilarating night of grown up time was a nice doze of normalcy. After all, she was beginning to feel like the teenagers were cramping her style.

Of course, that didn't mean she adored them any less. Naomi was adorable with her prim and proper demeanor, never failing to say things in the kindest way imaginable. Milo carried herself well, charismatic and dutiful. Whether or not she knew it, she held excellent leadership qualities. Virgil was strong, stoic, but troubled. There seemed to be a lot of pain in his heart; the road to healing was a long one. Violet was quirky, but it was plain to see the potential within. Surely, Violet would one day grow into a formidable woman. Ryan-

She'd think of something later.

Before that train of thought could be continued, a tanned, muscled, arm snaked around her and pulled her against what felt like a warm body. A warm body in _her_ bed that slept over. While this was truly a sweet, affectionate, gesture that would remind one of those picture perfect movie moments, Ceres' eyes widened with abject horror. Especially when she felt kisses at the nape of her neck.

What. The. Fuck.

"Good morning," cooed Alex, smiling fondly as his emerald eyes sparkled with affection.

"You," Ceres began, "stayed the night?"

She heard a sharp intake of breath and felt him release her before hearing the sheets rustle. Ceres rolled over, intent on facing the man who had transgressed upon her. The olive skinned, dark haired, taut man in her bed with the most piercing pair of green eyes she had ever seen. Damn him! Damn Alexander and his good looks. His-his stupid glib charm and his need for her to display some form of emotional commitment. Damn him to hell!

"Clearly," he chuckled, sitting up in the bed as the sheet fell and draped about his naval.

At first, it appeared as though he was getting out of the bed, but he only leaned casually against the headboard. Alex was comfortable and not intent on going anywhere-pretty damn smug about it too.

"That is not okay, Alex!" Ceres hissed, furious that he weaseled his way into sleeping through the night.

"Aw," he said, feigning a pouty tone despite how deep and soothing his voice truly could be. "Did I upset poor, emotionally distant, Ceres by taking a little nap in her bed? We were-"

She sat up swiftly, clutching the white sheet to her chest with her left arm and covering his mouth with her right hand. Alexander made a muffled noise behind her hand and then smiled mischievously, narrowing his eyes playfully. She removed her hand from his mouth.

"-until four in the morning," he crooned, finishing the statement she interrupted.

Ceres groaned, slumping back against the headboard.

"Fine then, that's why you stayed," she huffed, rationalizing the sleepover. "We passed out."

"Relax," he said, in a reassuring tone. "I'm about to go home in a moment. I'm just waking up a little more, that's all."

"You are?" Ceres asked, relieved and somewhat curious all at once.

"Yes, Ceres," Alex replied, nodding. "I have a nine o clock meeting with a new investor today, a wealthy one at that. He's originally from Angel Grove and would like to offer his support in the upcoming election."

"It sounds like he already likes you," Ceres said, with a playful glitter in her eyes. "Or are you being presumptuous yet again?"

"Rude," Alex said, looking somewhat injured by those words. "No, he's interested, Ceres. I can tell because like personalities attract. Do you want to know who he is?"

Ceres nodded once as a rejoinder.

"William Cranston."

Taking pause, Ceres began to ruminate where she might have heard that name before. Her mind jogged over the details, knowing she'd heard the name many times. It clicked, suddenly. He was an alumni at Angel Grove High School, several years older than her. Yes, that's the man that her father talked about frequently. William Cranston, a native resident of Angel Grove and a prodigy with electronics-robotics to be specific. He was on the cover of several magazines throughout her adolescence; William Cranston, rising corporate mogul. Angel Grove's golden boy, a celebrity of sorts.

William Cranston was something of a playboy if the tabloids were accurate. Ceres scoffed at the thought of it. This man probably let the board do all of his dirty work while he reaped the benefits. His first wife was a woman, from Angel Grove, by the name of Kimberly Hart; however, he dated, and sometimes married, actresses, models, and the occasional porn stars after their divorce. William, as she recalled, had already divorced four times. The only thing separating this hedonistic pig from someone like Charlie Sheen was the cocaine, Ceres thought with a sneer.

"I never heard of him," Ceres lied, watching a shirtless Alex buckle his dress slacks after pulling them on. He had left the bed and began to dress already. With a schedule like his, Ceres wondered how a man like Alexander Orpheus could find the time to maintain such a perfect body as she watched the corded muscle move beneath his bronze skin. Did he sleep? Why couldn't she love him like he wanted her to? Here she sat lusting over him, but the word love? Something just didn't click. This irresistible pull she had felt for him, from day one, directly clashed with her desire to get away from him, she never understood it. Sometimes, she wondered if it would one day tear her in two.

"That's not an issue," Alex replied, speaking with understanding as though he could sense her lie. He pulled a collared dress shirt over his torso, white and cotton, buttoning it at the front as he continued to speak. "Politics and business never interested you anyway."

Ceres grinned sheepishly as she nestled back into her bed and turned away from him. "Let yourself out when your driver arrives, I am going back to sleep."

"Alright," Alex said evenly, moving to the door of her bedroom before pausing to say one last thing to her. "I will call you tonight, if you'd like."

"Yeah, I'll change the sheets, Mr. Ego," Ceres said wearily, drifting back to sleep.

* * *

Milo moved the blue cloth back and forth over the counter, ardently. Her body moved reluctantly as she woke up this morning, still bruised and sore from the fight with Ryan in the abandoned subway terminal-not to mention Azrael's skeleton warriors; Revenants. It was such a quiet month until yesterday too. The black haired young woman began to wonder if and when the next demon would appear, or what this Azrael was even up to. She sighed, wiping up the aftermath of someone's breakfast, having cleared the plates a moment ago.

"Milo?" Violet asked, playing with her cell phone; all of Ryan's social networking accounts had not moved since yesterday. For some reason, he kept deleting her as a friend when her pseudonym had been figured out, it was a fun game. She made the gesture of leaving a link to some obscene video, riddled with dark humor, on Ryan's profile page before putting the phone away. "Do you think Virgil wants to bed you?"

"I-er-," Milo struggled for a response and then traced her gaze to the clock on the wall, it read 8:15. "Don't you have school, Violet?"

Violet furrowed her brow, irritated about the idea of going to school and the fact that Milo had snubbed her question. "I don't want to go. Remus is really mean to me."

"Who is Remus?" Milo asked, fascination dancing across her golden eyes as she began to wring the blue cloth through her fingers, playing with it.

"An asshat," replied the auburn haired girl with loose curls, slumping down onto the bar's countertop so as to rest her left cheek on it. "He's the quarterback on the football team, super popular, handsome, and a boorish dickwad to boot."

"Oh?" Milo asked, smiling at the young woman on the other side of the counter. "Do you, perhaps, like him?"

"NOOO!" Violet bellowed. "I HATE HIM!"

"I love Ryan," Violet added, mutedly, appearing depressed over something.

Was it something she saw on the phone, or simply trouble with school bullies? The young waitress wondered as she stared at Violet.

Milo smiled before disappearing into the back and coming out with a glass full of ice and Pepsi. She placed it in front of Violet and ran her pale fingers over Violet's cheek in a nurturing fashion. "I know bullies can be hard to deal with. If you want to spend the day with me, I don't mind. I'm off work after lunch."

Violet smiled in response to Milo's sweet, soothing voice.

The teenage girl jolted upright, excited with what she was about to say. "I KNOW! I should call my parents and-wait..."

Milo giggled and stepped into the back room. Once out of sight, she straightened her white apron and smoothed out the wrinkles of her black uniform. The morning was quiet, most Thursday mornings were. She was kind of excited to spend the day with Violet. Maybe, she could call Ceres and Naomi so they could have a girl's day as well. As she organized the counter tops in the kitchen area and wiped them down, she began to think of Virgil, though she tried not to-inevitably to no avail. She mulled it over for half a minute, wondering if she should just tell him and get it over with. Yes, that was exactly what she would do. Milo Jenners would confess her feelings to Virgil and not let anything stop her.

The bells above the door chimed, a new customer.

Milo stepped out from the prep station in the kitchen and into the dining area of the cafe, eager to greet the customer. It was a young man, scanning the diner with interest and curiosity. He didn't appear to notice her, or Violet. His movements appeared elegant, graceful-calculated, even. This person was tall, wearing a violet polo and acid washed blue jeans. Though he was tall and thin, Milo noticed the sinewy muscle beneath his fair skin. Was he some kind of college athlete? He finally looked towards her, his hazel eyes conveying some unidentifiable emotion. Was he lost? He reached behind his head and ran his fingers through his tightly curled, flaxen, hair and smiled.

"Hi, uh, I think I have the wrong address," said the mysterious young man, soft spoken and polite. "There doesn't seem to be any apartments around here."

"No," Milo said, shaking her head once. "I'm afraid this is a business district, but there are some apartments a few blocks over. Are you visiting someone?"

"Yes," said the young man, the corners of his mouth drawing back into a handsome smile. "I'm here to surprise a good friend of mine."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that you're lost," Milo replied, holding a tone of empathy for the out-of-towner. "May I see the address? I might be able to help you."

"That's quite alright," said the young man, holding a hand up so as to punctuate the fact he was saying no. "I think I read it wrong, I know where to go now. But, it smells great here. I think I might catch a quick breakfast though. I just got in this morning, you see."

"Oh, absolutely!" Milo exclaimed, greeting her customer enthusiastically. "Please, sit wherever you'd like and I can get you a menu. Would you like anything to drink?"

"Earl Grey, please," he said, looking to the bar beside Violet. He walked gracefully towards the auburn haired high school student and gestured to the stool beside her. "May I sit here?"

Violet turned on the stool and moved her gaze up from his toes to his face in an appraising fashion. She smiled eagerly at him. "YES!"

"Please, sit!" she exclaimed nodding excitedly, "I'm not an underage girl skipping high school!"

He grunted softly, losing the words in his mind.

"I'm single and have lots of sexual experience!" Violet added.

"You know," the young man began, looking a bit uncomfortable, "I'll just sit over here, but thanks anyways."

He took his seat several spaces away from Violet and folded his hands over on the countertop, patiently. Milo came out of the back room with an empty cup on a saucer and a small, stainless steel, teapot with a bag of Earl Grey steeping in the hot water. As she set it down in front of him, he thanked her.

Violet scoffed angrily as she lowered her head back down on the countertop, "Well he's probably gay anyway. Earl Grey."

"Why do I love the wrong men," she sighed wistfully, appearing crestfallen.

The young man narrowed his eyes and gazed at Violet sideways, though pretending not to hear the comment.

"So, you're from out of town?" Milo asked, attempting to make conversation as she set the menu before him.

"Yes," he said politely, forgetting the annoying girl to his left and her rude comments.

Milo began looking for something to wipe down for the sake of appearing busy. "Did you drive?"

"No," he said sincerely, pouring his tea. "Virginia is too far away, I flew."

"How exciting," Milo said, coiling her fingers around the blue cloth, almost nervous in this eloquent young man's presence. "I've never been out there."

"You aren't missing a lot," he chuckled, closing the menu. "I will just have bacon and eggs, over hard. Brown toast and an orange juice as well, please."

Still burying her face in the table and irritated with him, her muffled voice scathingly mocked him. "Oooh, over hard. I bet he likes it hard, right up his prim and proper donut."

They both ignored her.

Milo nodded and stepped into the back room, relaying the instructions to the cook who was smoking a cigarette outside the back door. She appeared out in the dining area after a moment.

"I'm Milo, by the way," she announced, kindly, before gesturing to Violet, "this is Violet. She has a strange sense of humor, but she is really sweet. What's your name?"

Violet, with her face still planted on the countertop, produced a muffled groan as she raised her hand for a moment.

"Wyatt," he replied, taking a sip of his tea and then setting the cup down onto the saucer. "It's nice to meet you, Violet and Milo."

As the mysterious young man completed his sentence, raging thunder loomed in the sky above as darkness fell upon the city.

"Odd," said Wyatt, calmly, taking another sip of his tea.

* * *

Tom dabbed the sweat from his brow with a towel while he sipped his water from a stainless steel bottle. They had sparred for several rounds and took a breather, catching up on the past several months of their lives until William remembered an important phone call that he needed to make. William hung up the cell phone, having concealed how out of breath he was for the duration of that phone call. They both sat on the lawn with their jackets open, or off completely, their gi both tattered and grass stained anyway. As usual they had lost track of time and sparred for nearly an hour. William had to call his receptionist so as to make his nine o clock appointment an eleven o clock since he'd have to return to his local penthouse and clean up before his meeting with Angel Grove's soon-to-be mayor.

"I have to say Tom, now that we got through the work out, how on earth did you purify the Deadzone?" William asked, eying him curiously, carefully reading his body language and facial expression. When he noticed the hesitation in Tom, he continued speaking. "Tom, I know you're not telling me something."

"Ryan is a Power Ranger," he blurted, looking away. It looked like he was going to tell William after all.

After inhaling sharply and appearing surprised for a moment, William smirked at his best friend. "Well, that's interesting. I had no idea being a Ranger ran in the family. Which one is he?"

"The Green Ranger," Tom admitted, lowering his eyes to the lawn. "I don't know how I feel about it."

"He needs to stop, Tom," William said, solemnly. "That power is evil, it came from Lord Zedd himself. What if it brings him back? Or worse, what if he is back and those Deadzones are a part of him."

"It's not like that!" growled Tom, emphatically. "They're all that can fight those demons and-and those demons are much stronger than what we've faced. They're also the only ones who can resolve the Deadzones."

"What do you mean resolve the Deadzones? When do you think the demons and Deadzones appeared?" William hissed, clenching his fingers around the black uwagi that he had taken off after their match. "It certainly couldn't have been when the Dragon coin was unearthed and made little coin babies," William added, with scathing sarcasm.

"It's not Zedd!" Tom yelled back, rising to his feet. "I-I-"

"You what, Thomas?" William inquired, coolly. "You got sand in your vag-"

"I transformed yesterday," Tom admitted, interrupting and inhaling deeply. "And I felt Zordon's presence in the Deadzone... corrupted by whatever force is conjuring the demons. It's a powerful essence, directly clashing with, no, assimilating with Zordon's energy."

William remained calm, regarding Tom with amused interest, continuing the inquisition. "Oh? And what evidence do you have of this? Because, it would seem to me that your evidence is strictly anecdotal. Though the fact that you transformed-hm. Without a morpher, I assume?"

William paused in order to allow Tom's response, Tom nodded slowly.

"Great, well, that much is interesting. What brought on the transformation?" William asked, looking up at Tom who had cooled down enough to seat himself back on the lawn.

"Ryan was possessed by the Deadzone. He meant to kill me. Honestly, he hasn't said much since. He doesn't remember going berserk, but whatever he saw-he's re-traumatized, it seems. I wonder if the Deadzone replayed the scene for him. He won't say," confessed Tom, shaking his head. "The puzzle just isn't fitting right. But, when I became desperate, this light inside of me lit up and I became the White Ranger again."

William paused for a moment, choosing his next set of words. "Do you miss it?"

"Not after that day fifteen years ago," Tom answered back without looking at his friend.

"I do," William said flatly. "I could do a better job now with my experience and age. If I ever had the chance, I would take it. Would you?"

Tom shook his head, saying nothing. They sat in silence for nearly a minute, an awkward silence.

"Two Deadzones have been purified. The Rangers have grown stronger each time. I think it purifies the negative emotions of the Ranger caught in it, the malice of the demonic essence, and then absorbs Zordon's remains into the new grid," Tom said with finality, breaking the silence.

"A sound theory," said William, agreeing to disagree with his close friend.

William sighed and stood up. "I should go, though."

Tom stood up as well, feeling a little rubbed raw after their spat.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" William laughed, teasing his absentee friend.

"I found a substitute and took a couple of personal days. God knows, I needed them. Yesterday was intense," Tom said, taking his focus off of the negative feelings that he had felt only a moment ago.

"Well, take another one tomorrow and we will get drunk tonight," said William, walking away from his friend with his uwagi draped over his left shoulder. "I'll find some pussy for you; doing that five knuckle shuffle and never dating is probably winding you up. You seem wound up anyway."

"It's a choice!" Tom yelled, indignantly, towards his friend who hadn't even bothered to turn around as he spoke so offensively.

William turned around after Tom's reaction, laughing at his riled up, righteous, friend. "Bullshit, it'd be like choosing to be poor. You're a surrogate father, not a monk."

Thunder abruptly rumbled overhead, they both looked to the sky. Black clouds began swirling, converging, rapidly. Lightning flashed, again and again. This storm, it built up momentum at an irregular pace. A fierce wind picked up. Tom clenched his fists, immediately recognizing that this was not a conventional electric storm. Another hypothesis that Tom had failed to mention, was the fact that these purified Deadzones made the alpha demon stronger. Did the Deadzones bind this demon's power as a protective measure? It just didn't make any sense to him.

"What the fuck is that," William said, mutedly, trailing off.

"What the hell do you think it is?" Tom replied, expecting William to figure out the rest.

"We have to fight it!" William replied, feeling anger well in his voice.

"We can't, we wouldn't be a match for it, even if we had our powers," Tom stated, continuing to look up at the massive storm cloud. "No, the new Rangers might be able to take it down. Honestly, I think it's hunting them from up there-stalking them."

"I'd suggest you call my godson and give him a heads up then," drawled William, covertly infuriated with the demon that threatened his hometown and his own powerlessness to stop it.

**End of Chapter Twelve**


	15. Danger and Tribulations

**Chapter Thirteen: Danger and Tribulations**

Naomi heard the first thunderclap overpower the music pouring from her ear phones and slowed her pace, looking up to the unforgiving sky as clouds began to swirl preternaturally. The young woman stopped, her jaw slackening as she realized the true nature of the storm, withdrawing the ear phones.

"Azrael is behind this," she whispered to herself, sensing the demonic energy as the fierce winds began to whip the surrounding area. Loose dirt pelted her and trees swayed while leaves hissed.

As she was dressed, at Ceres' encouragement, the wind chilled her and caused her flesh to tingle uncomfortably as goose bumps rose on her brown skin. Normally too conservative to be scantily clad in public, Naomi went jogging in this attire that Ceres strongly encouraged her to wear, stating that it was America, she was sexy, and deserved to get bitch slapped should she refuse to have some confidence in her petit, healthy, physique. Naomi did feel more confident as she spent more time in Angel Grove with her friends, but the male attention she received had still made her uncomfortable. It was the reason she chose a walking path behind the homes, separated from the paved trail by waist high walls of stone, as her itinerary. This was one of Angel Grove's wealthiest suburbs and it also offered nice scenery and a sense of seclusion. From what she saw through the fences, the vast yards were landscaped majestically, displaying vibrant emerald lawns and a plethora of strategically placed trees that were not indigenous to California. For the duration of her run, the cottony, lemon colored, short shorts served her well; as did the sports bra of the same color, revealing her tiny waist and defined abdominal muscles. It minimized sweating and kept her comfortable. Yet, right now, she was cursing her choice of sportswear as the elements attacked her senses. The wind was powerful, messing her hair despite the fact it was tied back into a tight ponytail.

Her gaze narrowed as she scanned the clouds, they were beginning to whirl directly above her. That meant that whatever Azrael had summoned was stalking her and preparing to descend upon her location. Considering she stood in the midst of a suburb, collateral damage would be high if this demon chose to assault her here.

"Don't land here," she repeated endlessly, and softly, fearing for the innocent people that could wind up hurt if a battle erupted.

* * *

He sat at the end of the bed, wearing nothing and completely satisfied with his ongoing conquest: Mrs. Peterson. The blue eyed young man, with his brutish physique pulled his black, cotton, boxer briefs up past his knees and then stood from the foot of the bed to pull the undergarments on the rest of the way. After stretching his arms and yawning with the contentment of a fed lion, the blonde haired athlete turned so as to look back at the tanned, middle aged and gorgeously proportioned, woman with blonde highlights in her brown hair, wrapped happily in a white bed sheet. He didn't mind being the boy toy of a married woman, especially a married woman with her perfect hair and fancy boob job. The fact that he was also railing the kicker's mom like a pornstar served as an added ego boost.

"Do you have any orange juice, Mrs. P?" he asked, flashing a crooked smile. The boy was still glowing after what had transpired-again.

"Downstairs, Remus," she cooed happily, enjoying that vestigial remains of her prior endorphin rush. "There should be some left in the fridge."

With that, the nearly naked youth left the master bedroom, his bare feet enjoying the cool sensation of the dark laminate flooring. As his steps carried him down the flight of stairs and into the expansive kitchen, Remus found himself at the stainless steel door of the refrigerator and opened it. He took the glass pitcher, half full of orange juice, and backed away from the fridge as he closed the door.

It was easy enough for Remus to navigate to a nearby cupboard, withdraw a glass and pour his orange juice. After all, Remus knew his way around the house, having spent a lot of time here since middle school with his friend Josh. Over the past few months, he had been here to see Josh's hot mother rather than his buddy on the football team. Their affair started innocently enough, as innocent as any affair could. He had come to spend a Saturday afternoon in the pool with Josh and the rest of the football team. After some fun in the sun, a wind picked up and covered Remus in the pollen of Pamela Peterson's prized flowers that decorated the vast backyard. Josh sent Remus inside, not specifying where he could find the allergy medication and cream for his hives outbreak. Pamela found the sneezing, congested youth in one of the bathrooms and treated him, prolonging her touch as she applied cream in affected areas. Pamela had pretended not to notice the boy's obvious excitement, but she did. A week later, when she invited him for dinner, she had followed him into the washroom and advanced aggressively. Making out with him for a few moments before escalating their physical relationship rapidly. He had taken here right then and there. That was the beginning point and he often visited at his convenience as Mr. Peterson's career involved a great deal of airline travel. Sometimes, like today, Remus skipped school and played house with Pamela Peterson.

Setting the pitcher back into the refrigerator, Remus suddenly took notice of the abrupt change in the weather. Like the curious young man that he was, he moved across the kitchen and out onto the large stone patio alongside the swimming pool. The patio was elevated and he was able to see this sexy young jogger out on the walking path. For some reason, she was standing still and looking up at the sky.

"Remus," Pamela whispered as she stepped out onto the patio, her voice seeping with concern. "What are you doing out here? The neighbors will see you."

"I like storms," he replied, taking his hungry eyes from the Asian jogger in the distance and placing them on Pamela Peterson, scantily clad in her purple silk robe that barely hid her voluptuous breasts and feminine curves. "Should we go back in? There's something else that I like to do during storms."

"Oh, Remus," Pamela giggled, turning away from him and stepping softly towards the doorway that led back into the kitchen.

As Remus prepared to turn and follow her back inside the house, a loud thunderclap sounded off with enough force to make his head want to implode. His head pounded for a moment as he brought his left hand to his temple and massaged it.

"What the hell," he groaned, lowering his hand as he turned around and cried out in horror. A bolt of lightning had struck from the heavens and taken down a large poplar tree. The flaming foliage and timber groaned in agony as it fell towards the walking path on the other side of that stone wall.

Fierce winds whipped over everyone foolish enough to be outdoors and the tree branches began to sway with more intensity. To punctuate the storm appropriately, fierce droplets of rain came hammering down on Angel Grove-the storm had finally arrived.

"The jogger!"

Remus, in the little clothes he wore, leapt down to the lawn from the patio, shielded his face from the rain, and ran along the side of pool, holding his breath as he ran near the flower planters that triggered his allergies. He had to make sure that she was okay, especially after the way that tree had fallen. What if she was crushed?

_She's hot, too hot to die! _he thought, hoping she was okay. He also wondered if her being scared would make it easier to score her number, especially when he came to the rescue.

* * *

Paying no mind to the onlookers, Naomi was more concerned about the bolt of lightning and the tree that toppled, hurtling right to where she stood. Her cat-like reflexes, a gradual side effect of the power infusion and another purified Deadzone, took effect as she leapt away from the tree, executing several back flips and landing into a crouching position. With a loud crash, the tree laid where she had stood seconds before. If not for the adrenaline that pulsed through her and the impending danger, Naomi might have been excited by her latest, not to mention uncharacteristic, physical feat. The young woman stood up, her blue eyes furiously scanning so as to find something. That lightning strike was the furthest thing from a fluke. Whatever demon was in the sky, it had meant to hit her and missed.

The rain began to fall, ferociously.

Naomi braced herself, sensing the arrival of the demon-it was the strongest yet. Uneasiness wriggled its way through her as the fine hairs behind her neck rose. Her breath snagged as she saw a funnel of grey mist move down towards the walking path and touch down onto the ground. The cover of clouds dispersed from the imposing shape of the demon, revealing its horrific appearance. It stood tall, by at least seven feet, and appeared lizard-like as though it were some sort of dragon bred with a man. It had an elongated snout and a forked tongue, despite having human hands. There were many human-like qualities about the creature with grey scales, such as the muscled torso, arms, and legs. It's head, with dagger-like horns protruding from the front, also had a thick mane of stark white hair. A simple earth toned loin cloth hung from its waist, concealing whatever was beneath it. The creature spanned out its vast wings and beat them once, sending a gale force wind towards Naomi that knocked her down onto her ass.

"Woman!" it bellowed, with a voice like thunder and a hissing lisp from its inhuman tongue, flicking its long prehensile tail back and forth, menacingly. "I am Ventus, born of the storm that Lord Azrael has invoked."

"I thought as much," she replied, dusting her shorts off after rising to her feet.

"It is my order to test your new powers," added the creature, smiling about as much as any anthropomorphic dragon demon could. "Should you fail, it is I who will devour you."

"New powers?" Naomi asked, deliberately ignoring the threat made against her life. "What do you mean by new powers?"

"The tainted earth," Ventus began, licking his scaly lips eagerly, gruffly, "seals the powers of your kind and my master, woman. To purge them is to become stronger."

"Tainted earth," she mumbled, thinking on that one for but a moment. With a jolt of clarity, her eyes lit up; Naomi had made the connection. "Deadzones... It benefits Azrael as well?"

"Now!" hollered the creature, stepping forward. "Transform and battle, woman! Let us decide who lives and who dies."

Naomi swallowed hard, but knew what needed to be done as she withdrew her morpher from beneath the elastic of her workout shorts. Even though the outlook appeared grim and this Ventus creature appeared to heavily outmatch her, she had to fight. Especially so when she noticed the young man, distastefully exposed, bounding across the yard. If he hadn't noticed that lizard like monster before, he definitely did now, freezing in terror halfway across the yard. The monster drew near, ignoring the other presence. It was entirely fixated on Naomi, no one else. She had no choice, she had to transform in front of this bystander and make sure that he didn't get killed during the fight.

With her fingers tightly coiled around her morpher, Naomi tensed her body, planted her feet firmly upon the pavement, and inhaled sharply before declaring her battle cry. "SABRETOOTHED TIGER!"

Warm ribbons of golden light exploded from the morpher and moved in divine wisps before enveloping her frame to form the protective material and fanged helmet of the legendary wildcat. Her body energized as she gasped in ecstasy, feeling the infusion of great power take hold of her entire being. The tinted visor slightly darkened her view, but not in a way that could offer any disadvantage. At least, in her Yellow Ranger garb, she now felt warm and protected from the elements.

"Get out of here," Naomi yelled out, pointing to Remus who stood with a slackened jaw after witnessing her transformation. The fool did not flee at her urging. Instead, he backed away slowly. It looked like had every intention of watching the fight from a safe distance.

"You idiot," she growled with contempt, waiting for him to be a safe distance away before withdrawing her personal side arm from the holster on her right hip; the versatile bladeblaster.

"Prepare yourself, woman!" roared Ventus, lunging swiftly for Naomi with a sudden beat of his wings.

He was quick, too quick. Naomi couldn't get a clean shot in and now he had her by the throat, raising them both into the air. High above the lavishly landscaped yard that the brawny moron stood in, Naomi desperately clutched at the corded muscle beneath this demon's scaly forearm. The blade-blaster was still clutched in her one arm that hung limply. She was losing oxygen and needed to do something fast, but would that fall kill her? She had to find out, lifting her arm to place the barrel of the gun against the demons forearm, itching her finger against the trigger. With a golden flash of light and roar in agony, the blast tore right into the bone and sinew of the creature. Naomi fell to the earth, contorting in the air in order to land in a way that would not kill her. No, with her powers, she might be able to land and spring herself back into the air.

The young woman landed with an unearthly grace, crouching, bending her knees, and spreading her feet out as the palm of her hand touched the ground, keeping her stable. However, before Naomi could spring back into the air and execute an aerial slash when she summoned her daggers, Ventus landed before her and latched his prehensile tail around her throat. The forming plan had already failed. Remus leapt backwards to increase the distance, despite already being several feet away. A woman yelled from the patio, begging him to come back inside. At least one of the bystanders had enough common sense. Yet, there was little she could do about it from her position and with the constricted airway, it was becoming increasingly difficult to even care. Naomi suspended limply like a defenceless animal caught in the grasp of its predator. Ventus opened and closed the fingers of his hand, examining the disfigured tissue on his forearm that began to close and knit itself back together.

"A shrewd warrior, indeed," he hissed, tightening his tail around her throat so that she lost her grip on her weapon, it fell to the lawn. After becoming bored with that, he flung his tail towards the stone wall and released his hold on her.

Naomi flew towards the wall and slammed into the ledge, breaking it and toppling over the wall. As she landed back on the walking trail, white hot pinpricks moved over her entire body as she stifled her pain wracked groans, the Yellow Ranger could barely breathe.

A bare foot, grey and scaly, with elongated toenails hammered down onto her torso, pinning her there. She looked up at the powerfully built demon who sneered down at her.

"You're weak, woman," said Ventus, hunger filling his gravelly voice. "You fail and that means that I get to eat you."

"Ceres," she murmured weakly, calling out for her best friend.

* * *

Ceres jolted with a start, hearing the lightning and the rain that beat against her apartment windows. She tossed and rolled over in her bed, wishing she could fall back asleep. Yet, she knew that she was up for the day and was simply too stubborn to admit it. Her own overpowering curiosity finally compelled her to get up and make certain that the windows were closed. She grumbled angrily, finding the nearest tee shirt and pair of sweat pants and then cursing out loud once she noticed the color; blue. Ceres refused to admit that she was helplessly drawn to the color that her Ranger abilities matched.

Coffee, she'd make coffee as soon as she checked the windows and woke up a little more.

With a yawn, she shuffled out of the room and scanned the apartment's windows. The bedroom, spare bedroom, and living room windows were all closed. Ceres moved to her sofa and sat down, moving her fingertips along the black leather. She looked past the television and straight out of the large window which doubled as a sliding door to her balcony. That was one hell of a storm outside.

Visions began to flicker behind her gaze, like she was seeing through the eyes of someone else. Wait, she recognized this person, she could somehow sense it. These were Naomi's eyes. She could see something, this grey skinned freak with a dragon face. It was stepping down on Naomi's chest, squeezing the air out of her. How or why she felt connected to Naomi's distress was far removed from her mind.

Ceres stood up suddenly, panic flooding her senses. Naomi was in trouble and there was no way of knowing how to find her. She staggered from the sofa, momentarily feeling the sensation of being unable to breathe. Her morpher, she needed to find it and then, somehow, find Naomi.

The phone began to ring, repeatedly.

She froze in the hallway, en route to her hallway closet where the morpher was hidden. The images from Naomi and then the phone ringing had caused her mind to swim and thus paralysed her. Ceres brought her hands to her temples, falling to her knees as her mind itself began to ache; the pain felt as though it would split her mind in twain.

After a few seconds, the static in her mind began to subside and she could look up to read the display on the handset of the cordless phone resting upon its base. Halvard Freyja-her father's name, which could only mean it was her mother, Annette Freyja, calling her. Even though the headache diminished as suddenly as it came, Ceres still found herself unable to concentrate. Once the message recorded, she could focus in on the task at hand. Right now, however, she felt as though she were caught in a maelstrom.

"Ceres here. If I'm not answering, I'm out having a life or just don't want to talk to you," said the telephone base after one last ring, a perfectly digitalized recording of her own voice.

The telephone base let off a loud beep, signifying that the caller could now leave a message.

_"Ceres, darling,"_ said Annette, in her usual expressively elegant, contralto, inflection, reminiscent to those female leads in classic cinema. _"How many times have I told you to change the message on your machine?"_

Ceres shuddered. There she goes again, exerting her dominance without any direct interaction.

_"At any rate, I am calling to remind you of our monthly family dinner. Something you have been too occupied to attend for some time, evidently. Your father and I would be thrilled to have you over tonight. See you, hopefully."_

There was a pause, as though her mother had meant to hang up and then remembered something else to add to the message.

_"Oh, one more thing, dear; please bring Alexander, we enjoy him so," _Annette added, her voice rising to an excited pitch. _"Bye now!"_

There was a distinct click, indicating that the phone call had ended.

Ceres stood up, removing the familial obligation from her mind. Like hell she'd invite Alex to her family dinner anyway. Her mind then returned to Naomi, her friend who might be in mortal peril. She had to get to that morpher before it was too late.

Her swift strides brought her to the closet, exuding a light from the crack beneath the door. She opened the door to find that her morpher was shedding a brilliant azure glow that cast its light on the walls and her fair skin. The ringing in her mind grew loud again, it was crying out to her. The device in this state was the source of her sudden mental anguish, it seemed.

Was this the reason that she could sense Naomi's pain? Were the two morphers resonating?

As she reached out and took hold of the morpher, the light engulfed her and the room itself seemed to spin.

Everything went dark, but the ringing had stopped.

* * *

The grotesque foot pressed down on her torso harder, causing Naomi to cry out in pain. Rain trickled down the demon's muscular contours and the clouds above continued stirring as white lightning flashed. Her gaze fixed upon the daunting frame, silhouetting the black sky which had lit up momentarily.

Naomi winced and reared her head away from the demon. This fight, this outcome, she felt weak and vastly overpowered. Though the suit was waterproof and protected her from the moisture, she could feel the heavy droplets attempting to pry through and chill her to the bone.

Yet, with the strain the suit was under in this moment, she would revert and the elements would indeed have her.

However, that was the least of her worries and that was a well known fact to both Naomi and the demon. She had lost after barely putting up a fight. This monster, Ventus, had made short work out of her and now he was going to crush her chest until she reverted to human form. And then after that, he was going to tear her to shreds and devour her entrails before her heart could even stop beating.

The morpher at her waist began to cast a golden glow, causing Ventus to step back in alarm and relieve the pressure from Naomi's chest. The glow became more brilliant until there was a bright flash of blue. Suddenly, Ceres, already transformed into her Ranger garb, stood close by and looked around in bewilderment. The two morphers ceased their illumination as their purpose had been fulfilled, the Blue Ranger had been summoned successfully.

Naomi wondered how summoning Ceres was even possible, but the fire in her chest continued to keep her from thinking on the matter. Her hands clutched at her torso as she could feel the pain gradually subside. She had sustained quite a beating, but she knew that she could still fight due to the suit's protective abilities and found herself able to sit up.

The Blue Ranger, immediately becoming aware of her surroundings, rolled her shoulders back threateningly, feeling enraged by the demon that dared to harm Naomi-the visions had been real. In a singular, godly, stride, Ceres lunged forward, pulling her arm back and swiftly sent her fist towards Ventus. As she struck him upon the chest, the impact resounded as her fist connected, telling all nearby that she had thrown everything into that punch. The demon staggered back several feet and she lunged forward, raising her right leg high in mid-stride. The front kick connected as her foot raised up beneath the demon's jaw. The bewildered demon was jettisoned into the air, stunned by the raw force of the Blue Ranger. Her leg came down and her fists clenched tightly as she then adopted a fiercely intimidating stance. Meanwhile, once the demon's shock wore away, he opened his wings, caught the breeze, and fell slowly to the paved walking path, landing softly.

"Blue Ranger," he snarled after landing fifteen feet in front of Ceres. "How did you come to aid the Yellow Ranger in an instant?"

"I don't know," she growled, raising her right hand to summon her personal weapon. In a flash of sapphire radiance, a five foot long spear with three forearm-length blades on each end materialized into her raised hand-the Power Lance. "But, I will fucking skewer you for what you tried to do to my friend!"

Naomi stood up, feeling her strength and confidence return to her as the twin, ornate, yellow daggers appeared in each hand. Her fingers coiled around the hilts of the Power Daggers tightly. This fight would be hers as well.

"We can take him," Naomi said, confidently, as she advanced towards the demon, stopping at Ceres' left side.

Lightning flashed once more as the rain fell even harder, moving in wave like patterns because of the fickle winds that also picked up. The storm, it seemed, was connected to the demeanor of their opponent.

Ceres split the Power Lance in half, the bladed ends now serving as twin mace-like weapons.

"Let's do it," she replied, tightening her grip upon her melee weapons.

The two women cried out, running forward in perfect harmony and drawing their weapons back as they ran past both sides of him slashing and striking with force, precision, and speed. Ventus roared, crimson blood trickling on his shoulders and ribcage where wounds had been opened. The girls stopped and spun around to face him, noticing that Ventus also turned around after their little slash and dash.

As the wounds began to close, the two Power Rangers noticed something; they had only managed to piss it off. Ventus opened his wings and dashed forward, closing in on them before either could react. He turned left and lashed his tail against them, cracking through the air with its awe inspiring size and force. The blow connected and sent fiery pain through the bodies of both Naomi and Ceres. The two Rangers were lifted from the ground and, subsequently, sent flying over the stone wall. They flailed in midair as they soared dozens of feet until they both landed in the yard of the Peterson's. They hit the soaked earth, rolling until they came to a complete stop. They were now, covered in mud and wet blades of grass, at the feet of the innocent bystander who stood at the halfway point between the large house and the walking path.

"Ite!" Naomi groaned, holding onto her right shoulder as she slowly rose to her feet.

From behind the two Rangers, Remus spoke to them as they picked themselves up from their unexpected flight. "Hey, are you both okay?"

The Blue Ranger's head whipped in the direction of the water logged teenage boy. The masked helmet was, luckily, able to conceal the expression of disgust and horror on her face. What was her little brother doing here of all places. Suddenly, another horror of horrors dawned upon her; this was the Peterson's lawn. Why was he practically naked and standing in the Peterson's yard?

_He's swimming with his friend Josh, _she repeated to herself, desperately affirming that reality as her gaze searched for the friend. Instead, she found Pamela Peterson, barely concealed in a violet silk robe, staring on from the stone patio, horrified at the unfolding events. _NO! He isn't? Is he? REMUS!_

She knew Remus was hardly innocent, but she didn't think he'd be here having sex with a married woman more than twice his age. What's more, there was a demon on the loose and Remus happened to be where they were fighting it. Ceres desperately needed to move the fight away from her brother. For the first time in her Ranger career, the life of a loved one was on the line.

Ceres continued to look at her brother for a moment, thankful the helmet hid her from him. After a few seconds, the shock wore off and she looked back to Ventus who was roosting upon the ledge of the wall, spanning his wings menacingly as he stared at the deadly fingers on his left hand, opening and closing them. He looked like he was eagerly anticipating the joy of violently murdering them. Lightning flashed and the shadows danced with light, revealing the dangerous details and outlines of the demon.

She put the weapon back together, so as to reform the Power Lance, and ran headlong towards the demon. Naomi followed behind her and Ceres desperately hoped that her friend would not call her by name.

Ventus leapt from the wall, beating his wings and pushing madly towards Ceres and Naomi.

With a broad, arcing, swing of the lance, Ventus flapped his wings towards Ceres and dashed backwards, the tip of the lance grazed his chest in the left swing. The creature hissed, surprised of the extent to which these two Rangers were able to harm him over the course of their encounter. The Blue Ranger, frustrated with her inability to strike properly, dispelled the lance, sending it back from whence it came.

Naomi and Ceres looked to one another, nodded, and then leapt high into the air, executing a front flip with the intent to deliver a devastating drop kick. Both feet were extended and poised to strike the demon until his hands lunged out, snatching each of the Rangers by an ankle. A malicious expression formed on the demon's face. In a vast sweeping motion, his muscles rippled as he threw his arms back and released his grip, causing Naomi and Ceres to fly towards the wall.

As their backs struck the wall, they both cried out. Their wind left them as icy flashes of pain moved all across their bodies. They both slumped down to the ground in sitting positions, barely able to move. While catching their breath, they were, mutually, surprised by the power and skill of this creature. Had they lost? How could they beat something so powerful, with just the two of them, when it would clearly take the six of them to vanquish it?

Ventus turned toward them, advancing slowly towards his prey.

Ceres looked up at the imposing figure, the harbinger of their demise. This was definitely it, but she had to keep fighting for the sake of her both her friend and her brother. She tried to stand up, but she felt too bound and restricted by the pain of hitting that wall to even move.

Suddenly, the unthinkable happened. A volley of golden blasts struck Ventus in the back, exploded in brilliant flashes, and sent him staggering forward. It was from Naomi's bladeblaster, but how?

Remus stood, shaking like a leaf, both hands holding fast to the discarded sidearm as the fierce rain continued to beat against him. Despite being powerless and barely clothed, he had taken up arms in an effort to protect the Rangers from the demon that meant them harm. His large forearm muscles twitched as small streams of water moved down his large form.

"No, don't," Ceres mumbled, weakly, her words inaudible to her brother.

Remus clenched his teeth, steeling himself over, and kept pulling the trigger. As more shots were fired, Ventus growled in irritation, spinning around to face the assailant. Remus ceased firing, freezing in terror upon seeing the monster up close, it was hideous!

He let out an amused snort. "What's this? A boy? Would you like to play too?"

"No! Leave him out of this!" Ceres cried out, finally regaining her voice.

"Be silent," roared Ventus, neglecting to look behind at the distressed Blue Ranger.

He extended his clawed hands outward, aiming them at the fool boy who dared challenge him. He spanned his wings out and dug his clawed feet into the muddy soil, bending his powerful legs at the knees, anchoring himself. The air began to whirl and shimmer all around him, preparing a powerful strike. On this puny human, it would almost be overkill.

"Run away! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Ceres screamed out to her brother, who was too stunned to even process that he was hearing the voice of his big sister.

The thin veil of masculine bravery quickly evaporated as Remus discarded the weapon like a toddler caught with the ever forbidden television remote. He turned from the demon and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, with little regard to how sexy or manly he could make himself look. In fact, Remus flailed his limbs as he ran towards the house, taking extra care to sidestep the flowers that triggered his allergies, lifting his hands while speedily tip-toeing the around them. He crossed the rest of the distance to the stone patio and climbed up, scurrying towards Pamela.

"We have to run!" he yelled out, finally looking back to the demon across the yard.

Ventus chuckled malevolently, gathering the last of the energy required to annihilate that stupid little boy. The fear he had planted in that young man's heart, in what would be his final moments, was nothing short of invigorating. He hoped to savor every sweet moment of this before turning his attention back to the Power Rangers at his mercy. Soon, they would be maimed and devoured, meeting a grim fate much like those other mortals.

Now, it was time to unleash the gathered force.

Winds shrieked away from the hands of Ventus, forming a horizontal column of devastation. The small, tornado-like, wind tunnel screamed towards Remus and Pamela, collecting bits of grass, dirt, petals from Pamela's prized flowers, and other scraps of debris with its indiscriminate fury. The whirling wind shrieked over the swimming pool, collecting water as well.

Remus' eyes widened in abject horror as he saw the speeding wind tunnel come his way. He grabbed Pamela by the shoulders and shoved her through the door, his movements jerky and a far cry from graceful-nothing like the action movies, which was something that would occur to him much later. "GO! GO! GO! GO!"

There was no outrunning it, he'd get obliterated by the debris in the house if he tried. Acting on instinct, he took Pamela by the arm and ran to a point in the house that might be in the outer rings of that wind blast. To Remus, it was better than trying to outrun it. He threw her down to the floor and laid over top of her, protecting her from any debris, as he desperately wrapped his arms around a pillar that was part of the home's structure. Sliding over the laminate flooring gave his knees a friction burn that he would notice hours later.

Wood groaned as the wind tunnel blasted through the home, glass shattering in all of the windows. The door they came through and a large piece of the surrounding wall had been obliterated, becoming swept up in the tunnel. The tunnel roared through the first floor of the house, pulling loose objects into it and hissing while its hostages collected groaned, howled, and shattered. Remus held on, out of the path of destruction, though terrified of being swept into that wind should he let go. Pots and pans rattled, furniture toppled over if it wasn't light enough to be swept away. The tunnel punched another hole through the other side of the house, making direct contact with Pamela's prized vehicle; a golden Hummer H3. The vehicle lifted by the front, flipped over backwards, and spun several times down the sloped, asphalt, driveway like a top before finally coming to a rest on its side-it raucous theft alarm now wailing. The wind dispersed while the pollen and petals from the flowers began to settle within the interior of the Peterson's ruined home.

Remus began to sneeze uncontrollably, backing off of the terrified housewife. His eyes began to water, his throat burned, and his sinuses became plugged. The young man wiped his nose frantically as his skin began to break out in red blotches. The flowers from Pamela's yard were picked up in the wind tunnel and now causing Remus to have a severe, but not life threatening, allergic reaction.

From outside house, the situation looked much worse as the wind tunnel tore through it. In fact, it looked as though survival was highly unlikely.

"REMUS!" Ceres cried out, beyond the hearing range of her brother, as she watched the house acquire a much wider door. There were impacts and loud crashes that made her assume the worst. "NO!"

She stood up, with every bit of willpower she could muster, and summoned the Power Lance back into her grasp without a second thought, her breath ragged so as to stifle her emotion. Ceres pulled her left leg back and anchored it behind her, bending her right knee. Her grip tightened upon the shaft of her weapon as she poised to strike, lining up the spear with the shoulder blades of the demon who continued to laugh cruelly at the destruction her baby brother was caught in.

With a war cry, Ceres broke forward in a powerful lunge and drove the Power Lance through the demon's back, causing the end to erupt through its chest as well. The demon let out an inhuman wail of agony, clutching desperately at the shaft of the weapon.

"That's for my little brother, you motherfucker!" she spat, pulling the bladed end back into the creature's torso before wrenching it sadistically.

Naomi watched Ceres with awe, not expecting such a sudden, yet powerful, tide changing manoeuvre. What's more, Naomi had no idea that the civilian they had tried to protect was actually Ceres' brother. She lowered her head, looking to the ground. What if they had failed to protect another innocent and, this time, it was also a Ranger's loved one? Tom wasn't wrong, being a Ranger was a burden and the costs were high too.

Ventus cried out and arched his back, causing all of his muscles to spasm, before what looked like grey cloud cover had fully enveloped his body. Then, in an instant, the cloudlike visage of Ventus had evaporated. Ceres staggered back, unsure of what had just happened. The rain stopped and the clouds began to break. It didn't take more than a few seconds for rays of sunlight to pierce through the black clouds above and light up Angel Grove once again.

The Power Lance dissolved once again and Ceres fell to all fours, panting and fighting back her tears. Her chest tightened and her breath kept snagging. She couldn't help but feel this way, she had just watched a demon throw a tornado at her little brother. "Remus, oh god. Remus."

Her chest heaved and she stifled the sobs, refusing to embrace the need to weep. Instead, Ceres shook and her sobs were only half-formed. The attempt to control them was obvious.

Naomi, finally able to stand up, dispelled her daggers as well and slowly advanced towards Ceres. She knelt down beside her comrade and gently set her left hand onto Ceres' right shoulder. "I am sorry. But, he might be alive."

Ceres' hands balled into fists, clutching mud and grass. Perhaps, but might wasn't good enough. She couldn't bring herself to get up and see with her own eyes-not this time. Despite the training she had as a police officer and the traumas she had witnessed then, a harmed loved one was just something she could not handle. And with all they had seen as Rangers, it was also likely that they did not survive that wind column. No, she couldn't do it. Ceres didn't want to be the one to find Remus' battered corpse in the half decimated house.

"I will look first. So you do not have to see. Wait here," Naomi added, taking her hand off of Ceres before standing to her full height. Ceres nodded once as a rejoinder.

It wasn't long before Naomi's steps brought her to the home with a gaping hole in the wall. After leaping up onto the stone patio, she walked through where the door used to be. To her relief, Ceres' brother and that amoral woman were unharmed. She looked to the dishevelled woman with messy hair, her robe now blemished, torn, and seeming to hang on by a thread without exposing her. Pamela Peterson stood at the other end of the house, frantically pressing a button on a remote. Naomi put two and two together when she noticed the battered vehicle in the driveway as well as the alarm that continued to howl and wail, despite the hussy's efforts to nullify it. Then there was Remus, who sat on the floor, sneezing and itching at his irritated skin. Other than the fact that one had lost their home and vehicle while the other suffered severe hay fever, they seemed perfectly fine.

She turned and walked to the hole in the wall, crying out to get Ceres' attention without calling her name. If Remus and his lady friend knew that the Blue Ranger was, in fact, big sister, it could spell trouble for all involved.

Not knowing how else to communicate that the best case scenario had occurred, Naomi held a 'thumbs up' gesture towards Ceres.

Ceres looked up to see Naomi standing on the patio, calling out to her. The relief peeling her anxiety away made it impossible for her to chastise such a silly form of non-verbal communication. But, still, a thumb's up?

She stood up and stalked angrily towards the house, anger replacing her grief and worry.

"Thank god he's alive," she growled to herself, "because I am going to kill him myself!"

Ceres leapt to the patio and hastily strode into the ruined kitchen as if she were gliding. Pamela and Remus were already quarrelling, it seemed. The life threatening crisis had passed, causing reality to set in.

"I need to go home," said Remus, his inflection nasally and difficult to understand. "My allergies are real bad. I need my Mom."

"Well, I can't drive you home, Remus," Pamela snapped, her tone frigid and short.

"Fine, I'll get my phone and call her. My pants are upstairs and that wasn't blown up," he hissed, angrily.

"You are not calling your mother to pick you up here!" she spat, holding her robe shut for fear of exposing herself to these two Power Rangers standing in her home-what was left of it.

Remus growled in exasperation, before that very growl fell into another sneezing fit. When the fit subsided, he stomped away and made his way up the stairs. "FINE!"

Pamela chased after him, up the stairs and towards the bedroom, yelling as she disappeared from Ceres and Naomi's sight. "Don't you dare call her!"

"Shameless hussy," Naomi said scornfully, looking to Ceres for some kind of response.

"He's no angel, Naomi," Ceres replied, crossing her arms. She knew what her brother was capable of and now learned more today. "I just wasn't expecting this."

"Hent-no he is a... pervert?" Naomi asked, searching for the proper word to articulate her impression of him in English.

Ceres laughed heartily. "Yes, Naomi. He is a pervert."

After several moments of awkward silence, while attempting to eavesdrop on the somewhat inaudible arguing, Remus came downstairs. He was fully dressed, wearing a simple sea green tee shirt and a pair of acid washed blue jeans. Despite looking a bit more presentable than he did in his wet underwear, his skin was still red and blotchy while his face looked a bit puffy.

"Come on, skank," Ceres said to Remus, rudely, lowering the pitch her voice as an effort to disguise it.

"Excuse me?" Pamela asked incredulously, coming down the stairs in more appropriate attire; a mint green wrap dress. She had mistaken Ceres' comment as being directed to her. "How dare you call me names when you've gone and destroyed my home? How do you plan to pay me for this?"

Ceres felt her right fist clench and knew, right then and there, how badly she wanted to strike Pamela Peterson down. She smiled behind the visor, fantasizing that she was smashing that whore's pretty little-botox injected-face. It could be pictured in her mind, the headline in the newspaper; Blue Ranger murders innocent civilian. And so, the smile never faded.

"How am I paying you?" Ceres cooed, waiting for Pamela to nod in reply.

"Well," Ceres added, sweetly, "I suppose I am paying you by not exposing you for what you are: an adulterous whore that sleeps with minors. If the legal ramifications didn't sack you, I'm sure your husband and this boy's family would."

"Um," Naomi interrupted, "we should go. The police will be coming and we have not ascertained how they feel about us yet. From the television, internet, and radio, I would guess that they hate us."

Ceres sighed and then took Remus by the arm, squeezing tight enough to make him whimper in protest.

"You were napping and saw nothing," Ceres said coolly, not looking back to Pamela. "If I hear it any other way, I will expose you."

"How dare you threaten me!" Pamela exclaimed, placing her hands on her hips. "What can you even do?"

Ceres turned around, still smiling behind her mask. "You don't know me, but I know A LOT of people in this city who can make you wish you were dead."

Pamela made a noise in her throat before Ceres, Naomi, and Remus made their exit from the home, intent on disappearing via the walking trail. It was a shame that Ceres had to protect her identity, because, right now, she wanted to tear into Remus for the worst of his crazy exploits to date. Furthermore, there was no way she could make her parents find out. Ah, the woes of a Ranger.

* * *

Hours after the tangle with the wind demon, the sun hung low in the sky to signify the arrival of the evening. Ceres, for some reason unknown to her, found herself cleaning up and taking the bus out to the suburb she called home until the beginning of her adult life. The bus stop, regrettably, was a fifteen minute walk from her family home. Of course, the walk usually gave her enough time to mentally brace herself for Remus and her mother. However, she felt a little differently about tonight's walk, despite wearing her black, not to mention comfy, ballet style flats.

In her tailored, navy, dress that ended just below the knees, with a squared neck line, and capped sleeves, Ceres felt especially naked on this walk, hating the idea of wearing a dress more than usual, and that the fifteen minutes was too long to be out in public... wearing this. She always hated the things, but kept them in her closet for the sake of her controlling mother who insisted on the monthly family dinners with a formal dress code. Rather, it ought to be called 'make Ceres wear a dress night' so Remus can ridicule her, Mother can talk about her wasted feminine beauty, and Dad can reminisce about when she used to like to being his little girl. Once, her mother even asked her if she was gay. Ceres replied honestly that time, 'No, but it should not matter even if I chose to be'. It was all harmless enough, probably, but dresses also had a way of making her more aggressive and hostile than she needed to be. She did enjoy being a woman, but did not see why femininity had to be restricted to skirts, frills, and perfumes as her mother purported.

Thinking time was over now, she had begun the walk up the long driveway to her family home. The house itself had a brick front, four white trimmed grand windows along the front, southern, wall-visible from the street, a pillared alcove doorway with a solid cedar door, an apartment above the garage, and a cement pad that led to the garage door on the east wall. Her itinerary along the asphalt driveway could lead her to two locations. One, the front door where she'd diverge from the cement pad to a sidewalk that led to the front door. Two, through the garage and directly through a door that led to the back porch and straight through another to their patio, if she chose. Ceres decided to enter through the front door and veered left to walk along the sidewalk, lined with small shrubs along the north side.

Ceres came to the steps and knocked firmly upon the door, three times. When the door opened, it was her mother.

"Ceres! Darling!" she exclaimed, beaming at the sight of her daughter in the dress. "You're gorgeous! Please, come in!"

Tonight her mother chose the Audrey Hepburn look, something that wasn't unfamiliar to her. Annette Freyja's choice of wear consisted of an apricot dress with a straight neck line, no sleeves, a v down the back of the dress which ended with a jewelled clip at mid spine, and two tails of the same colored fabric down her back. The length of the dress was modest, a straight skirt falling below the knee. At her neck, Annette wore a statement piece of small gold chains, clear beads, and large blue stones. Her long brown hair, with greying highlights, was swept from front to back and tied into a low bun. To complete the ensemble, Annette wore light brown suede pumps on her feet.

Annette stepped back to let her into the foyer, before noticing Ceres' sore lack of accessories and frowning. Her daughter was truly a stranger to fashion, despite her gorgeous silver eyes and long, flowing, blonde hair. While it was on the tip of her tongue to indicate her daughter's lack of accessories, especially when they have gone shopping and when Alexander lavished her daughter with gifts, Annette chose to say nothing more on Ceres' appearance.

"Thanks," Ceres said, smiling nervously as she stepped inside.

"I called Alexander," she added, blatantly lying as she followed her mother through the well lit foyer and towards the kitchen. "He can't make it I'm af-"

She gasped as she turned right along a large, white, support column to see an attractive, olive skinned, man with volumes of styled black hair at a medium length. As he turned from the large steel refrigerator, he spoke without noticing Ceres. "I've set the wine to chill-oh, hi Ceres."

Her breath snagged as she felt caught in her lie. Immediately, she aggressively placed her hands on her hips and stuck out her right leg. "Red wine is served at room temperature."

"It's white wine," Alex replied, calmly, smiling at her.

"Oh," Ceres said, not knowing how to recover from this awkward situation. The fact that her mother now met her with a scrutinizing gaze did not help matters.

"I called, Alexander," Annette began, her tone icy, "concerned that you might have forgotten."

"Yes," Alex replied, "I appreciate that you did, Annette. Because, I felt bad after turning Ceres down and I couldn't very well turn down a second a invite," he added, intuitively, helping Ceres recover from her lie. "So, I changed my schedule. I really don't blame her for being surprised. I hadn't called her to let her know I changed my mind."

Ceres silently fumed, but remained thankful for his quick thinking and attention to detail.

"Well, that's sweet of you, Alexander," Annette said, smiling at him, and brushing his shoulders affectionately as she walked past him. "Go say hello to Remus, dears, he's had some strange reaction while on his run. He's in the living room."

She stopped in mid-stride, turning back to Ceres. "Oh, sweetie. Be nice to him," she paused and then whispered, "he made a nest."

Ceres groaned and rolled her eyes.

* * *

_"Yesterday on...Tribulations!~"_

Remus reclined back against the arm of the large, mushroom colored, microfiber sofa, eyes glued upon the wall mounted television above their fireplace. Being wrapped cosily in his forest green snuggie, he stretched out, crossed his legs, and yawned as he scratched at his belly. The red blotches on his skin were subsiding, but his eyes were still puffy and rimmed. Due to his hives, the amount of calamine lotion applied made his skin look pink. His sinuses also continued to ache, but the humidifier on the coffee table helped alleviate the discomfort. Used tissues, a closed laptop, and empty cartons of orange juice were among the items scattered on the surface of the ceramic coffee table as well, signifying the nest he had made throughout the day.

_"Melody told Chet that she was pregnant with their baby. However, will Dominic find out that it is truly his child, threatening to rip him and Miguel apart forever? Is the volcano beneath their town, Accord, going to erupt? Or will Jesus save them all."_

Remus giggled and snorted when the narrator's voice drawled out the Latino pronunciation of Jesus.

_"Amidst the deceit, the sex, and the threat of death, vampires are now surrounding Accord, out for the blood of Jesus! This is! Tribulations!"_

"Oh, hey," Alex said, stepping into carpeted living room. "What are you watching? It sounds interesting."

He stood beside the sofa, looking to the television as he removed his black blazer and draped it over his right arm. The white, collared, dress shirt appeared to fit well as it complimented his black tie. The shirt was also tucked pristinely into his black dress slacks. Looking to Ceres' whatever he was, Remus felt a bit unattractive and under-dressed in his snuggie. The snuggie that Annette Freyja took care to embroider with a large, fancy and classic looking, golden R on the chest.

"Tribulations," Remus answered, dismissing his fleeting feelings of inadequacy and looking back to the television.

"Mother records soap operas for him on the DVR while he's at school," Ceres said, coming up and standing to Alex's left. "Or off doing whatever it is he does," she added, scathingly.

"Is that a snuggie?" Alex asked, staring at Remus' attire appraisingly. "And who embroidered the R? Your mother?"

Remus felt himself shrink a little now that Alex brought it to his attention. Ceres began to snicker as she watched her brother grow slightly embarrassed. However, she nearly covered her face with her hand when she heard the next set of words come from Alex.

"That is so awesome! I should get one!"

"Do you want to watch it with me?" Remus asked, sitting up and moving down the sofa so as to make room. "I can catch you up."

"YES!" Alex exclaimed, his emerald eyes lighting up with joy as he sat down on the sofa.

"WHO WANTS WINE?~" Annette called out, melodically, often taking advantage of the opportunities when alcohol was present.

Ceres took a seat in the matching armchair beside the sofa, thinking about the night that was to unfold. "Fuck. My. Life."

**End of Chapter Thirteen**


	16. White Requiem

_**Author's note:  
**I don't even know where to begin. Life happened, I suppose. The past few months have been full of stress and many other issues that utterly wore away at my creativity. I apologize for the wait, I really do. If you are still here and still read this story, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I have dreams of being a novelist and you have no idea how much this fic benefits me. I learn new ways to write, better ways to weave a plot, and a great deal of support from all of you. So, know how much I appreciate the time you all take to read these chapters! I hope this slakes your thirst and serves as a wonderful Christmas gift... though a bit late. Enjoy!_

**Chapter Fourteen: White Requiem**

Her desperate footsteps reverberated from the pavement as her pace quickened. While her surroundings blurred, she knew of a shortcut through this narrow back alley-right between a squalid nightclub and a Thai restaurant. The mixed scents of peanut oil, liquor, and urine assaulted her senses as she furiously escaped from the pursuing danger. Rounding a corner, naively hoping to seek another corridor to salvation, she cursed violently to find a group of men, likely affiliated with her pursuers, waiting in the shadows for her arrival.

As the young woman, a living canvas of varying colors and inks, turned around to double back in the direction she came, her three pursuers had already caught up to her, each wearing a menacing expression riddled with savage intent.

"Fuck it all!" growled the piercing laden woman, her hair ebony and closely cropped, save for the neon green bangs combed into a pompadour.

These assholes were persistent and there were a shit-ton of them. She counted the six she ran into a moment ago, now moving to flank her, as well as the three who just closed off her only exit. They had no want in particular, these thugs. Drugs, money, sex-likely all three. She was nothing but a piece of meat about to be raped in an alley by how many men, battered and likely murdered. Even if she survived, who knows what diseases these fuckers would be carrying. They looked like guys who shot up. Hepatitis. HIV. Et cetera.

Darkness obscured their features, she couldn't accurately describe her attackers either. This would never hold up in court, the cops would never get them. In every sense of the word, May

Hemmings, otherwise known as 'Mayhem', was fucked.

Not without a fight!

Mayhem, true to her name, sent her black army boot into the knee of one of her predators, resounding with a disturbing crunch as she brought it down like a hammer. The man cried out as he went down, holding his knee.

"You little whore," snarled another attacker, as he clutched at her, failing to do so as she stepped to the side. Her shirt, a black tank top, however, was not so lucky; the right shoulder had been torn when the junkie had ripped at it. She found herself too fixated on fighting for her life to care whether or not her yellow, speckled bra continued to conceal her small breasts. Instead, she exploited the assailant's momentum and drove a fierce elbow into the back of his neck, sending him face first into the grimy asphalt into a puddle of his blood, broken ivory, and filth. He did not get up, nor would he ever walk again.

"Shit, she broke Eli's neck!" shouted the one who looked like the ringleader. "Grab her and hold her, you useless fucks!"

The rush of adrenaline wore off as she found the hands snare her like eager fishhooks, bruising her limbs and testing the limits of her fabrics. She screamed out until the ringleader's hand muffled her, clenching her jaw tightly and filling her mouth with an acrid, salty taste.

"Let's show her what happens when a bitch gets uppity."

Mayhem thrashed in vain, feeling the fly of her jeans tear open beneath their boorish hands.

She closed her eyes, expecting the worst. The young woman fell to the ground, landing and waiting for the horror to take its hold. Yet, there were no hands upon her, no articles of clothing being torn away from her. Mayhem opened her eyes and gasped, seeing the remaining seven men being tossed around like children.

Two men, in a flurry of well aimed kicks and punches, were beating the animals into the dingy pavement with minimal effort. She scurried back, fixing her gaze on them. Black and Green. One was smaller than the other, lean and wiry. His green suit, with white diamonds dispersed in a methodic pattern, golden bands at his biceps, and an ornate golden breastplate gave him away as the Green Ranger as he held one of the men up by the throat. The other man, bulkier and better defined, his suit black and decorated with the same white diamonds did not have golden armor; he was the Black Ranger.

"Fucking, fuck," she choked out, voice raspy from the surge of foolish bravery that subsided into weak, shaky limbs. "I'm being rescued by the Green and Black Ranger."

* * *

Not a trace, Virgil couldn't find any sign of the demon from earlier today as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, Ryan in tow.

Naomi had contacted Tom, telling him the specifics of their ordeal with the creature. He was a powerful adversary, commanding the wind itself. Apparently, they had almost lost the battle. Yet, in a decisive turn-around, Ceres gored it from behind with her weapon when the creature attempted to kill her little brother. Tom relayed Naomi's findings to Ryan who then found him. They had since patrolled the rooftops of Angel Grove, seeking any trace of the demon that could lead them to it. So far? Nothing.

A loved one. Virgil ached for Ceres. It couldn't have been easy to have the life of a loved one riding on the outcome of her fight. He wanted to speak with her, see how she was doing. But, it seemed that she was out of reach due to some family obligation tonight. While Ryan chastised her vehemently for 'shirking her responsibility as a Ranger', Virgil openly contradicted the kid and told him to shut it before he'd end up shitting in a bag for the rest of his life. Needless to say, the evening had been uncomfortably quiet since that exchange.

It was when he noticed a woman, dressed like some punk rocker, running on the sidewalk below, that Virgil became sidetracked. The part of town they were in was sketchy at best, but, Virgil didn't clue in right away that the woman was NOT jogging to her bus stop. No, she was in full pursuit by three men that called out after her, crudely.

"Shit," he hissed, knowing full well how this scene was going to play out, as he followed them along the rooftops. Ryan hadn't noticed the unfolding events below and cursed loudly as Virgil strayed from their itinerary.

A moment later, Virgil came to the ledge that overlooked a dim alleyway where a much larger group of men were holding the same punk rocker. As he found himself about to leap down to break up the scene, a harsh grip jerked his right shoulder back.

"What the fuck, Virg-" Ryan looked down to see what caught Virgil's attention and immediately amended his statement. "Good work, Virgil."

The two Rangers leapt into the dark alley and immediately pulled the men off of the young woman, viciously beating them in the process. As they directed punches and kicks into the thugs, Virgil looked over to the woman who opened her eyes and scurried back from the fray. He sent a few more blows into the crowd before he decided to let Ryan take care of the rest, considering how much fun Ryan appeared to be having while he held one up by the throat; it reminded Virgil of a kitten and a captured mouse. The Black Ranger marched over to the young woman and hauled her to her feet.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, conveying concern in his steady voice.

The young woman shook her head a rejoinder, probably too shocked to speak. She seemed okay, despite the torn fabric. Hell, she seemed to hold her own before the sheer numbers had overwhelmed her.

"You need to get out of here, are you safe now?" Virgil couldn't help but ask, what if there were more after her. "Was this a wrong place at the wrong time thing? Or do you know these guys?"

"No!" Mayhem sputtered, furrowing her brow as though she had been dealt a harsh insult. Then again, he did just imply she ran with people of THAT ilk. C'est la vie.

"All right," said Virgil, "I'd take off if I were you."

The young woman nodded and abruptly fled the scene.

"She gone?" Ryan asked, coming up behind Virgil after subduing the last of those junkies.

"Yeah," Virgil said, watching her go. He hoped she'd be okay from here on out.

"Good, let's get moving." Ryan barked, before leaping back up to the roof of the building they descended from.

"That guy," Virgil sighed, following suit.

* * *

Tom stood beyond the confines of the Angel Grove Park, awaiting the arrival of his newfound pupils. While he expected a briefing, he had another reason for making this their appointed meeting place-a reason he'd clarify as soon as the boys arrived. Given the malevolent pulse of energy that radiated from the park, Tom speculated that the Virgil and Ryan would soon deduce why they were called here.

Sipping his macchiato, Tom took a seat upon the nearest wooden bench, calmly keeping his senses upon the corrupt area behind him. The zone itself wasn't spreading, or infecting anyone who passed through it. Rather, it seemed to be waiting for something, someone even. Though it did no harm to the occasional innocent passersby, people seemed to have this innate sense to avoid the area emitting bad vibes.

Right on time, Ryan and Virgil leapt down from a nearby high-rise and walked over to him. He appeared cavalier to the fact that two Power Rangers came down from the sky and advanced on him. No, the high school teacher in his late thirties sipped from his hot beverage and regarded Ryan curiously.

"Well?"

Ryan coughed so as to clear his throat and then spoke. "We combed the whole city, nothing. Stopped a rape from happening. Otherwise, nada-" he froze when he took his focus from Tom and observed the well kept park behind him. Flower beds, paved trails, and sinister red eyes glowing in the shadows. "Er, Uncle?"

"Why, yes, Ryan?" Tom chuckled, his eyes glittering with coy mischief.

"There's a Dead Zone behind you."

"Yes, Ryan," Tom agreed, "it would appear that there is."

Tom then shifted his attention to the Black Ranger that remained motionless and silent, captivated by what he saw in the park. Something certainly had the young man spellbound, as expected. What he sensed in this negative space was not only infused with Ranger powers, or demonic energy. A lingering power, foreign to him, resided here.

"Virgil," Tom began, ignoring his nephew, "does this place have any... significance to you?"

"I-I, yeah. It's where we fought that giant skeleton and I lost my Rider system."

"Just yesterday?" Tom queried, regarding Virgil with calculating eyes that resembled the dampened earth after a rainstorm.

"Y-yeah."

"I see," Tom purred, lifting his arm and craning his neck to look behind. "This is a new one then; an anomaly I should think. Lespid is still here with us and it's calling to you. Do you hear it?"

The Black Ranger nodded. "I do."

"Uncle?" Ryan asked, cocking his eyebrow dubiously from behind the visor. "What are you saying? That there's a henshin ghost lurking in the Dead Zone?"

"Precisely, now will him the Dragon Shield. He's going to need it." Tom replied, confidently. "Only Virgil can lay Lespid to rest once and for all."

"What?" Ryan sputtered, likely in protest as he had just attained the armor yesterday and also because he had no idea that it was even possible. "How do I do that?"

"Virgil, put your dominant hand on that golden triangle in the center of Ryan's chest. Ryan, imagine the shield leaping to Virgil. The rest should take care of itself," Tom instructed, hardening his stare with the resolve of an old mentor. "There were times where I needed to fall back and let someone else handle the problem. The shield will give him more power and I think this might also give you a lesson in humility."

Ryan made a noise that rung deep within his chest before resigning to his Uncle's words. Virgil stepped closer to Ryan and dropped his right hand onto the Dragon Shield. Within a second, a golden flash illuminated from where the two Rangers stood. When the light dispersed, Virgil stood with the Dragon Shield embracing him in its divine radiance. The Black Ranger looked down, likely awestruck behind the visor as the upgrade flooded him with its raw, unfettered, power. The shield fortified his defensive capabilities while the golden arm bands around his biceps endowed him with a newfound strength.

"Good," Tom said, pleased with the outcome. "I knew it would work."

"Thanks, Ryan," said Virgil, enamored by his sudden surge in power.

"Good luck," Tom said calmly, sipping the last of his lukewarm drink. "If anything goes wrong, we'll fall in. But, this is something that you must do."

"I understand," Virgil replied, breaking into a brisk jog away from his companions.

Ryan watched Virgil disappear into the shadows, pursing his lips behind the visor. Though Tom could not see his nephew's face, he could sense when the boy was troubled. Tom smiled, knowing full well Ryan was beginning to care more about the team than he liked to admit.

* * *

As Virgil moved deeper into the park, the surroundings slowly changed as he began to feel disconnected from reality itself. He verified this much by noticing something that reminded him of a large black curtain a hundred yards to the front of him and when he turned around to notice he could no longer see the skyline of the city behind him. It was as though a veil of darkness closed in on him. There would be no escaping, not that he'd want to if it meant putting the demons in his heart to rest. An eerie wind began to howl and wrap around him, though the suit did not permit the entry of this chilling air. The trees were twisted, bare, and rustling supernaturally as the place in which he stood grew darker. He looked up to see that even the sky was obscured by the swirling haze of violet, blue, and black. If he dared to check, he was certain that the edge of the perimeter even dropped off into oblivion. Virgil looked ahead. There! A solitaire light post in the center of this chaos. It provided the only illumination here and stood majestically above a cobblestone road that cut through the entire expanse of ground and knotted, dead, trees.

To confirm what he suspected, a white visage with crimson, insect eyes, lingered by the light post. A sentinel, preparing to strike down the one it had been awaiting. Virgil swallowed hard, knowing full well he was the one it had been waiting for. Deep down, he felt remorse for allowing his system to be destroyed in their last fight together, though it was out of dire necessity. Was this Dead Zone, this manifestation, Lespid's revenge? Or, was it simply a requiem meant to give the ghost its proper send off. Virgil moved closer, zeroing in on the suit before he stopped and centered himself in preparation for the fight to come.

Lespid watched him intently, studying him meticulously. Virgil noticed how it stood without the need to cast off its heavier armor pieces. Kamen Rider Lespid, the soulless suit of armor, had been awaiting him in its true form. Without preamble, the suit moved towards him menacingly, slowly, circling him.

Virgil took the lead, launching a singular front kick into Lespid. The suit staggered back and granted the Black Ranger enough time to materialize his personal sidearm; the Power Axe, and drop a powerful, arcing slash into the torso of the phantasmal Rider. Subsequently, Lespid fell to the cobblestone road and tucked into a shoulder roll. As it rolled to its feet, an ornate, white sword materialized into its right hand. The blade itself, with an angular tip and blunt backside, looked quite lethal-crafted of folded steel-able to endure a great deal of stress upon it. The hilt, if it could even be labeled as such, looked like nothing more than a palm sized handle that allowed the deadly weapon to be gripped effectively. Lespid stood erect and dashed into a horizontal slash from left to right, steel rasping and whistling through the air. Virgil parried the strike with his bulky weapon, sparks showering against the both of them as he grunted and strained to push the weight back. They stood locked, Virgil began to grit his teeth as his muscles protested.

The struggle gave way as Virgil threw the doppelganger back several feet. The relentless specter charged in once again, this time slicing downward from the heavens. The Black Ranger cried out, holding his own weapon horizontally, with both hands a distance apart to disperse the momentum, as the sword whistled upon him. The blow was stifled, resounding with a metallic impact and another shower of sparks. Lespid relented, silently moving with lithe prowess as the blade flashed swiftly, barely parried by the Power Axe and its wielder each time.

He couldn't hold much longer; his defensive maneuver wouldn't last forever. At the same time, this gaping void in his soul ached at the sight of the lost system. Was he wrong to sacrifice his system for the life of Milo? No, it was just. He couldn't allow another person die, not again. The memories from his past, ambiguous, some still locked away. Yet, he just knew, in his heart and soul, that tragedy riddled his past. Those days in Locksbury, covered in the blood of his own.

_No._

The ringing of the blades briefly shook him from his trance. Like quicksand, he began to sink back into the reverie while dancing and trading blows with his past. Death was a force he would fight until his dying breath. He cared for Milo, damn the laws of cause and effect that Azrael warned him of. Virgil would fight to protect everyone he could. Life was precious and it was his duty to sacrifice ANYTHING to preserve it.

_Nobody is going to die._

Virgil became more aggressive in the play with weapons, swinging savage, powerful, swings with the small axe, causing the white armor to parry desperately. The Black Ranger roared with the rage of a beast, the mastodon itself, as a powerful aura of ebony ignited about his frame like the fire burning in his soul. The strokes of the axe resounded with greater impacts as the combined might of the Dragon Shield and the spirit of his beast flooded into him. Virgil unleashed a primal howl, driving the Rider back with each step until it backed up against the light post. Taking advantage of the pause, Virgil leapt into the air and brought the axe down in a vertical strike, cleaving through the light post and driving Lespid into the ground. Volts buzzed and crackled as broken glass rained down on them.

The light of the Dead Zone had gone out.

Leaping a distance from the stunned Rider, he then took his weapon and held it like a powerful rifle. The pommel of the Power Axe, when held like a firearm, was in fact a cannon.

"You're gone!" Virgil screamed at the height of his bestial rage, the barrel of the cannon glowing with a dark violet light. Energy pulsed and flashed. "I needed you and you were always there for me. But, I sacrificed you without hesitation!"

The weapon howled with power.

"I will use my power to protect my friends, in any way I can!"

The cannon was on the cusp of reaching full power.

"And I would do it again if it meant saving her! I will never take this back!"

A massive beam of energy fired from the cannon and into the ghostly armor, unceremoniously tearing it asunder as each piece exploded.

"HAUNT. ME. NO. MORE."

The beam dispersed and nothing remained.

The waving curtain of energy stilled and cracked like stained glass, causing the light of the city and moon to pour into the area Virgil and Lespid had occupied. He dropped the Power Axe and slumped to his knees, his vision blurring.

Everything went dark.

* * *

Tom sauntered into the Angel Grove Park, taking in the sights, as soon as the Dead Zone lifted. He had no doubt in his mind that Virgil could handle this task and he felt some pride in the fact that it had been done successfully. As usual, the nature in this venue was serene, almost undisturbed, and a nice place to momentarily escape the city without leaving it. A calm wind blew, rattling the leaves gently. Something about this wind, it soothed the soul. Of course, the question was, as follows, how far into this park did Virgil happen to venture?

Ryan ran ahead, though not allowing his concern to shine through. Tom knew better and chuckled.

"Virgil!" Ryan called out, running to the side of the unconscious Black Ranger-sprawled flat out on his back.

Tom gasped and ran to catch up to his nephew. Was he wrong? Did Virgil end up hurt after all? No, he would have reverted if he had been seriously injured. After a moment of Ryan shaking him by the shoulders, Virgil roused, groaning drowsily. Tom had to refrain from laughing when Ryan leapt back to his feet and distanced himself from Virgil.

"Did I do it?" Virgil asked, smiling weakly behind the visor.

Tom nodded.

"Good-"

Ryan knelt down and put his left hand down on the center of the Dragon Shield. Within a moment the familiar flash of gold returned and the shield returned to its rightful owner: The Green Ranger. Ryan stood up, his posture showing that he was quite pleased with himself.

"Really?" Virgil laughed, sitting up from where he rested briefly. "Is that what that was all about?"

"My shield," said Ryan, facetiously, concealing the relief he felt in Virgil's safety.

"Any insights?" Tom asked, curious as to what Virgil might say.

Virgil nodded, then stood up. "A few."

"Such as?" Tom said, raising an eyebrow in the same manner as his nephew.

"I know how to kill Ventus," Virgil said, "I had a vision of what happens when our weapons are together, and I think clearing this Dead Zone makes it possible."

**End of Chapter Fourteen**


	17. Carpe Diem

**Chapter Fifteen: Carpe Diem**

"So, he just shows up, at my parent's house!" Ceres exclaimed, burying her face into her hands while leaning over the familiar bar of the diner. "Can you fucking believe it? My parent's house! Knowing how much I don't want our relationship to be complicated and he sneakily preys on my mother living vicariously through me and TAKES the opening."

"So," the busty teen with auburn locks interrupted, sitting beside Ceres and looking between her and Milo-who stood behind the counter. "This super-hot, super-rich, Mediterranean beau with an amazingly perfect body wants you to love him, commit to him even," she paused for effect. "And that's a problem why?"

Ceres flushed and glowered at Violet as she raised her face from her hands. "Aren't you EVER in school."

"I don't need to go school to know that you're dumb," Violet cooed, innocently, enjoying how riled up Ceres became. "Besides, I do my homework and pass just fine. I show up for the tests, no one complains. I think the teachers like it when I'm scarce. I couldn't imagine why though."

A few seconds of silence passed.

"Don't you have job?" Violet asked, curiously.

"No, Violet. I live on disability because I got injured on the line of duty, like a hero." Ceres hissed, irritated by stupid Alex and stupid Violet for making it worse!

Violet's terra cotta eyes looked Ceres up and down, assessing her carefully.

"Well, you're able to have plenty of HOT, ACROBATIC, SEX with your NOT-boyfriend AND you can do some pretty awesome stuff," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "in your Ranger suit", and then spoke at her usual obnoxious volume, "you don't seem too disabled to me. I think you're just wasting my tax dollars."

Ceres rolled her eyes. "You don't pay taxes, Violet."

"I'm merely a concerned citizen," said Violet, grinning sheepishly.

The raven haired young woman, in a rose colored apron, smiled nervously at the exchange, her warm, amber, eyes moved between the bantering pair before she laid her hands down on the counter and spoke softly. "I do see your point, Ceres."

"Well, I don't," scoffed Violet.

"He should respect your boundaries and if he's blatantly defying them, he might be an abuser of some kind. I can see why you're so apprehensive, really," Milo continued on, talking over Violet now.

Violet made a low growl in her throat and rolled her eyes. "You always tell her what she wants to hear. Blah, blah, blah. Rich girl problems."

"You just don't understand, it's a grown up issue," Ceres said, simply.

Violet abruptly stood up.

"OH!" she began, "I UNDERSTAND QUITE WELL!"

Customers looked over to see the raucous teenage girl standing and making a scene.

She began to make the motion of juggling two male genitalia with her hands, licking and slurping, pretending to perform fellatio on them, while yelling as loud as she could. "OH! I'M CERES! I DON'T HAVE A JOB, SO I CAN FUCK ALL DAY! I DON'T WANT MEN TO LOVE ME BACK! I'M NOT READY FOR THAT KIND OF COMMITMENT! FEEL BAD FOR ME BECAUSE I HAVE REAL PROBLEMS!"

Violet then pretended to wail like, well, a whale as she flicked her tongue rampantly. "SAMANTHA JONES!"

"Violet!" Ceres growled, old habits surfacing, "Sit down, or I will arrest you for an inappropriate public display!"

The red haired young woman laughed harder and made the inappropriate gestures more aggressively. "YOU CAN'T! YOU'RE DISABLED!"

Several appalled gasps escaped the customers, a few even walked out without paying.

Milo's face darkened, scarlet, as she clenched her teeth and twisted the cleaning rag in hand so hard that her knuckles popped. Veins began to protrude from the base of her neck as she hissed with raw, seething, rage.

"Violet," she hissed through her teeth. "Sit down. Right now. Or, I will never let you in this fucking restaurant again."

Violet sat down suddenly. "Yes, ma'am."

To herself, Violet whispered in shock and awe. "She swore."

All the while, Ceres fumed silently, leering at the high school student that just attacked her on such a personal level. She opened and closed her hands a few times as she counted to ten in her mind, several times. Finally calming down, she looked up at Milo. "Who the fuck is Samantha Jones?"

Milo, quiet and still shaking from her small outburst, shrugged as her reply.

Violet snickered while blowing bubbles into her chocolate milk, taking her lips away long enough to speak, in a catty tone. "Google it."

Milo continued to anxiously fidget with her cleaning cloth, allowing the surge of emotion to run its course and disperse. She regretted the flash of her temper, but, god damn it, Violet was offending the customers. If her friends were going to hurt the business, then she wasn't going to allow them to loiter here anymore. Firstly, she needed to calm down. Maybe banning them was drastic, but-OH!

When the door swung open, loudly, heads turned as the chimes rang. It was Virgil.

"Milo!" he exclaimed, his composure wafer thin as something had clearly been on his mind. "I-I-"

"WHAT?" she asked, loudly, her ability to control her tone still lost with the flash of anger from a moment ago.

"W-well, maybe it's a bad time-oh, screw it!"

And, with that, he made swift strides over to the counter, reached across and coiled his fingers around the cleaning cloth she held so tightly, pulled her in close, reached behind the nape of her neck, and planted the most passionate kiss upon her lips her could muster.

Milo reared back, releasing the cloth. He-he kissed her. The passion that leapt from his mouth and through her body, it just rushed over her. In her current state of mind, and now this-oh god. She felt the blood rush to her forehead as she scurried into the kitchen.

What was that just now? She'd been with men before, so what the hell was making her so skittish?

Milo hurried into the walk-in cooler and slammed the door behind her. Her redness began to fade from her normally pallid complexion as she drew in a deep breath. While the Red Ranger leaned back against the door, she realized that, as her heart raced, she had a wide smile plastered onto her porcelain face.

Virgil kissed her.

* * *

Wyatt flicked his newspaper in irritation, silently scorning the menace that was Violet from across the Diner. Moments ago, he had been having an intelligent, stimulating, conversation with Milo-the lowly waitress who might not be so low after all-when the obnoxious cretin had once again graced this quaint cafe with her sickening presence. The refined young man resolved to finish his small pot of Earl Grey, educate himself on the local news, and depart so as to resume his search for he who eluded him. The one he sought, he would not escape so easily. Wyatt moved his neck back and forth, with purpose, cracks resounding from the rigid movement while his burning eyes remained fixed upon the cheap paper and ink. His prey had been clever to come here, to this city.

"Power Rangers..." he murmured, interested in a scathing editorial that deigned them a 'menace to Angel Grove' as another friend of the waitress came in through the door and proceeded to rant about her sordid love life. How pathetic.

At least Violet agreed, he mused, watching her become verbose and rude.

Wyatt's thoughts returned to the Power Rangers, he would crush them as well, in time. True power; he would show them its meaning.

Violet's tirade continued, well traversing into the territory of obscene. He peered over the paper, watching her make illicit gestures in an effort to chastise the other friend. A few of the customers nearby filed out without paying, not that he blamed them for it. The girl standing up and making an x-rated production had been downright offensive. Still, he stayed, pretending to ignore the events as they unfurled. There was something colorful about this lot that he couldn't quite place.

He tugged at the collar of his fitted white t-shirt. The climate here in Angel Grove, it was different from the Virginian climate he had been so accustomed to. At the very least, this place was so much more eventful than that white trash ghetto they call Locksbury.

Chimes rang and a familiar voice called out the name of the waitress. His fingers snaked around the edges of the newspaper in a death-like vice, Wyatt Princeton could feel the entirety of his body tense as his dark eyes narrowed.

_Virgil._

How unlikely it was that he had arrived to this cafe yesterday, even more unlikely that he met people who knew Virgil Cross, and, perhaps, fortuitous that his nemesis arrived in time to unwittingly reveal such a crucial weakness to his mortal enemy. A deus ex machina, it seemed. Wyatt intently observed as Virgil reached for Milo and drew her in for a kiss. Virgil and the waitress were unconsummated lovers? The fair skinned young man flashed a lupine grin as the flustered Milo disappeared into the kitchen. Whether or not she rejected his advances hardly mattered, he found an opening to strike and hit home. As always, poor, pathetic Virgil made himself weak through the ill fated bonds he forged. Wyatt would savor this, line up the pieces accordingly, and make his decisive move against his foe.

Virgil hadn't yet seen him and it was important that it remained this way. For that purpose, Wyatt needed to exit stage left, immediately. Fishing into the front pocket of his acid washed blue jeans, he felt the wrinkled paper of the five dollar bill and withdrew it. Setting the bill on the table with his right hand, and leaving it for Milo to discover later, Wyatt departed from the venue without ceremony or noise-save for the chimes on the door that announced the exit and entry of each occupant.

* * *

Ceres glanced furtively at the individual as he quickly departed beneath the serenade of chimes and clangs. Something about his movements, they were calculated, efficient even. Still, he could have been anybody in a city of more than a million people. Military, he definitely had to have a military background.

Her senses then returned to the stunned Virgil who remained where he stood after Milo retreated into the restaurant's back room. She noticed that his earth-toned eyes fell on her, desperately seeking some sort of friendly reassurance or womanly advice.

After inhaling through her teeth and uncomfortably strumming her thumbs on the countertop, she finally broke the silence. "It's possible you freaked her out."

All the while, Violet had been eagerly leaning over the counter so as to watch Milo walk away and keep an eye out for when, and if, she came back. "THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!"

Virgil sighed and shook his head, feeling as though he'd just made a fool of himself.

"Cheer up, dude," said Ceres, trying her best to comfort him. "You came off a _little_ strong, but, I can pick her brain when things cool down a bit. You might still have a shot."

Ceres looked away, breaking eye contact. She didn't want to make any promises at all, he totally took 'shooting himself in the foot' to a new level. Instead, he blew the whole fucking thing right off. Foot? Ha! More like a mutilated, bloody stump. What was he thinking? Maybe she needed to hit him again, set him straight.

"Life is short, and I wanted to-" Virgil trailed off as the door to the cafe opened, Naomi.

Naomi sauntered into the cafe, smiling, adorned in a lemon spaghetti strap top and form fitting dark blue denims. Ceres found herself admiring the honey colored ballet-styled flats at her friend's feet, they were so adorable on her. Naomi was beginning to take her fashion seriously, Ceres mused, smiling as the team's only college student swept in behind Virgil and found her seat to Ceres' left while Violet sat to her right, and Virgil just stood there awkwardly.

"I," Naomi began, "as you would put it, made my exam bitch!" she exclaimed exuberantly, raising her hands in the air before setting them down on the countertop and grinning euphorically.

"Too much coffee this morning?" Ceres asked, raising an eyebrow. "And, I believe you meant to say, 'made the exam my bitch'. For someone so well spoken, slang sure is lost on you, hun."

"Well, I-" Naomi said, being cut off by Violet.

"NAOMI! GUESS WHAT VIRGIL-"

Ceres stood up and hooked her grip above Virgil's left elbow, clutching him tightly with her right hand. "Okay! We're going, chat later, Naomi!"

"What- b-b-ut!" Virgil protested incredulously.

"Save your pride, Casanova. We're out of here," she spat, dragging poor Virgil across the floor and beyond the exit of the dining room. In truth, Virgil looked like some lost puppy being torn away from its owner.

When the duo came to the street outside of the cafe, Ceres released her grip on Virgil. The young man rubbed where she had gripped, it was probably going to bruise. Outrage flickered across Ceres' silver eyes as she then sent a calculated jab right into Virgil's sore spot. The Black Ranger cried out in protest.

"What the fuck was that, Virgil?" Ceres demanded, placing her hands on her hips as she sent the right hip out a little further than the left. "Well?"

"I-"

"When I said take the lead, the other night, I didn't mean show up at her place of work and stuff your tongue down her throat, good god!"

Virgil adopted a less forlorn countenance and his aura became much more playful as he flashed her a crooked smile. "I thought women liked men who took initiative."

"What are you?" Ceres sputtered, "a rapist? Rapists take initiative-WITHOUT PERMISSION!"

"Women," Virgil scoffed. "You all say you want a sensitive guy, but, if he's too sensitive, he's not manly enough. You all say you want a manly man who takes initiative, but then, if he tries to sweep you off of your feet, he's a brute and a possible rapist. I don't know what you creatures want."

Ceres felt her jaw drop and a somewhat injured noise erupt from her chest. "Well, if I were you, I'd go wine and dine Ryan then."

"Nah," said Virgil, waving dismissively. "He's kind of a queen, so it would defeat the purpose."

They both paused for a moment before the uncontrollable laughter rolled out from the duo.

* * *

The late afternoon sun poured in through the open window of the red bricked tenement as the general din of motorists, pedestrians, and birds roused him awake. Well, that, and this nagging voice that relentlessly called his name. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled, it felt good to be naked in someone's bed. Especially when that someone had another lover who didn't know about their hot little rendezvous. There was rush to it, a naughty acquiescence of a frustrated woman needing him to bring her to ecstasy while they all clung to their men for varying motives. As far Remus was concerned, women were their loneliest when caged in relationships, or marriages. And, as it happened, lonely women were so much more fun than high school girls.

"Remus," she growled, the illustrious Ms. Dalton, his biology teacher. "You have to go home. NOW. We can't do this again."

"Aw, Lara," he purred, entangled in her bed sheets, stretching his limbs like a sunbathing feline. "You say this EVERYTIME. You rush me out the door, swearing it's the last time, and then you're angry when I'm late or don't show up all."

"No, you have to go now," enunciated the equally naked, tall and willowy, brunette with a pixie cut that accentuated her high cheek bones, long neck, and perfect-sensitive-ears. "My boyfriend is going to be home soon and your parents will wonder where you are."

"Why, Ms. D, I'm getting extra help with my homework. We've been discussing biology," Remus smirked, "at length."

She stared at him, refusing to back down.

Remus sighed, while getting up, so as to concede and began dressing himself, closing the fly of his blue jeans. Before he could close the buttons on his open turquoise shirt, he remembered his bag and began to advance upon the bedroom's exit. However, Lara, in a robe of white fleece, already blocked him at the doorway, holding up his black messenger bag. He caught her staring lustfully at his exposed chest and stomach while the short sleeved, turquoise, button-down vaguely hugged his torso.

"Y-you'll be needing this," she said harshly, grasping at straws to compensate for the internal weakness she felt ringing through her limbs. Lara Dalton lunged the messenger bag and Remus' white tennis shoes into his gut as he gasped and took hold of them. "And, I want you to use the fire escape."

The youth quickly pulled his shoes on, not caring where his socks were at this point.

"As you wish, Teacher," Remus crooned, turning around to face the open window that led to the fire escape. As he hung his right leg out and touched down on the iron grating, he looked back at her with a mischievous smile. "Same time next week?"

The exasperated growl made him laugh and the pillow that hit the window as he withdrew from it made it even funnier. He'd be back and he hoped so, she was one of his best.

Thunder rolled in the sky as black clouds billowed and swirled above the building.

"Shit," Remus gasped, sharply. The monster! It remembered when he shot it and it was coming back for revenge. The boy scurried down the fire escape, the metal staircase clanging under each frantic step. He just HAD to have a booty call on the eighth floor, didn't he. "Shit, shit, shit, shit."

He came into the alley, knowing that he needed to get to the nearest safe place. Somewhere out in the open, maybe. The monster wouldn't appear there, would he? Remus would run out and away then. But, that plan failed miserably when lightning hit the pavement a short distance in front of him and a brilliant flash of white blinded Remus while the raw force of it sent him flying back to land, and roll, on the dirty pavement. Remus looked up to see the tall dragon-like barbarian with pale grey skin, and a brown loincloth, leering down at him.

"Hello, boy," snarled Ventus, his voice a snort and low growl at once.

"Shit balls," Remus sighed, "this is what bad karma looks like."

"Your brazen assault, boy. I did not forget, but that's not why I'm here," said Ventus, backing away to allow the boy a chance to stand up. "The Blue Ranger will come to protect you if I take you as my hostage. It is her blood that I want."

Remus felt confused, agonizingly rising to his feet. Why him? And why would a specific Power Ranger care about his safety? Wouldn't any one of them, if not all, come to his aid? This plan was retarded. To his surprise, he was a lot less afraid now than he was a moment ago. A part of him felt like this might be the end, perhaps. If that were the case, he definitely didn't want to go out a coward. Therefore, Remus Freyja swallowed his fear and glowered at the lizard man. "Your plan is dumb, you won't draw out just one Ranger."

Ventus snarled back at the insolent boy, causing Remus to recoil a little. "A fool, too dense to see that the Blue Ranger is your-"

A blue blur that had vaulted over him and somersaulted several times before landing interrupted Ventus, standing up and taking on a defensive stance. The Blue Ranger now stood between Ventus and Remus. Immediately after, a red, yellow, black, and pink blur followed suit. The formation of five now stood from left to right; black, yellow, red, pink, and blue. This, in all likelihood, was the most synchronized the team had ever been.

"Can I just offer some input here?" asked the Black Ranger, rhetorically. "Let's not do that again."

"I agree," said the Blue Ranger, her voice familiar, "it's a bit dramatic and overkill."

"Shit," Remus murmured, "it worked, but he is SO fucked if there's five of them."

The Blue Ranger turned around at the sound of his voice and her body language changed immediately, agitated by the look of it. "YOU!" she sputtered. "You fucker! I don't even want to know why you're in this part of town, barely dressed. Good god!"

"What? Why are you?" Remus hissed, irritated with this stranger judging him like this. "You're not my mother; go to hell."

"Get somewhere safe," growled the Blue Ranger. "NOW!"

Remus watched her and the rest of the team go to work, drawing their weapons and striking at the demon. They closed in hard and fast, moving in multicolored streaks. Something, somehow, had made them even stronger than the last time he'd seen them. He backed onto the fire escape, trying to stay out of the way of all of this. He was already a distance away; but, this fray was one of the most intense things he had ever witnessed.

The Black and Blue Ranger leapt into the air, bringing their weapons down hard onto each side of the demon. It staggered back, stunned and bleeding. As soon as they fell back, the Yellow and Pink Ranger jumped over them, bringing the daggers and bow down onto Ventus. When they made way for the Red Ranger, she charged in with her sword and mercilessly impaled the demon through his chest, withdrawing the blade and leaping back.

The demon arched its back and roared, unleashing gale force winds that whipped around him and sent the Rangers back. From what Remus could tell, it looked like the creature was getting desperate. If so, that made him even more dangerous. They had to do something before it unleashed a cyclone that would, in all likelihood, decimate the neighborhood.

"Not to backseat fight," Remus began, raising his voice in the howling winds. "But, I hope you guys have a plan before we're all killed!"

"Remember what I said about the big fucking gun on the way here?" asked the Black Ranger, speaking to the rest of the team. The rest nodded, speaking amongst themselves.

"Then we form it!" The female Red Ranger's voice cut in, harsh and eloquent. The rest fell silent.

The Black Ranger took his axe and slid a component back to change it into a rifle before throwing it into the air where it levitated, despite the wind. Immediately after the Power Axe hung in place, the Pink Ranger lobbed the bow towards it-fusing with the weapon in a flash of pink light. The Yellow Ranger tossed her daggers into the mix, causing them to attach underneath the bow as extra barrels to the cannon. The Blue Ranger segmented her weapon, throwing the pieces to almost complete the cannon with five barrels.

"It almost makes itself," mused the Yellow Ranger. "Truly a dangerous weapon."

Without words, the Red Ranger leapt into the air, fiercely clutching her broadsword with the emblazoned red hilt, and claimed her weapon by slamming the sword on top of the whole creation. A surge of white electricity signified the cannon's completion. As she landed, the Pink and Blue Ranger filed to her right while the Yellow and Black Ranger filed to her left. All of them bracing against the weapon and each other.

The five Power Rangers exchanged looks with one another. This was it, the moment where they would unleash this new weapon's might. Would it work? They'd soon find out. All the while, Remus found himself white knuckling the steel railing in anticipation, and to keep himself from getting knocked about in the wind storm.

"FIRE!" cried the team of five, voices resonant and powerful.

Five cannons, five colors.

From each barrel, a beam of each Ranger color erupted, coalescing into one multi-colored hand of immense destruction-all of it channeled toward the fiendish Ventus. Remus watched the demon's eyes widen before the inevitable impact, quite impressed by the fact that the blast had struck well before the scaly bastard could counterattack. His grip slackened upon his brace as the wind unceremoniously dispersed. The youth kept his teeth clenched, hopeful that nothing would go wrong at this juncture.

The godlike arrow then did the unthinkable and arced upwards, taking Ventus into the charcoal skies with it. The beam dissipated briefly, before a silent, prismatic explosion plastered the monochrome backdrop like the fourth of July.

The demon of the storm was dead.

"Gay," he muttered, immediately chastising the overtly colorful display of power.

The Rangers looked back at him, wondering if they heard him right.

"Overkill much?" Remus asked nonchalantly, shrugging.

The clouds began to break, allowing golden strands of the late afternoon sun to caress Angel Grove and the weapon vanished from sight.

Remus sighed in relief, ready to ditch the Pride Parade and head home. While the Power Rangers had saved his life and he was grateful to an extent, they looked fucking ridiculous and he wouldn't be heartbroken to ditch them. As he whistled an unrecognizable tune and began to strut away from the fire escape, something-someone-grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him around to face her; The Blue Ranger.

"Fuck off-"

Her powerful hand swept over his jaw in a backwards motion. As the strike hit home, Remus hit the ground, letting go of his messenger bag and feeling the pain flare through his whole body. Why was the Blue Ranger assaulting him?

"You," she growled. "IDIOT! DO YOU EVER THINK WITH THE RIGHT HEAD?"

"Oh snap!" The Black Ranger laughed, watching the drama unfurl.

"Word," said the Pink Ranger, enjoying this as immensely as her comrade.

"Move along, guys," ordered the Red Ranger. "We'll let them...talk."

Remus stood up, rubbing his jaw and stared after the others in wide-eyed disbelief. They were going to allow the crazy super powered bitch to assault him?

"Aren't you going to call your Ranger off?" he demanded, calling to the Red Ranger. She, and the rest of them, continued to file away silently. "This is the assault of a citizen!"

No wonder people had hate-blogs about these pricks, they were monsters. As the crowd of Rangers dispersed, he then glared back at the Blue Ranger.

"What of it?" he spat. "You're not my mother."

The Blue Ranger groaned and hauled him-by the ear-into a more concealed, shadowed, space between the buildings. Remus protested every second of the way before she let go of him. What the hell was this crazy bitch doing to him?

"This is the second time your tail-chasing has got you in trouble," the Blue Ranger began, "you were in danger not once, but twice!"

"So what?" he asked, sneering at her. "Why should you care? God, all you've ever done in the two times I've met you is berate me! You're a shitty superhero!"

"REMUS!" she yelled, causing his eyes to widen.

"Oh god. It's you," Remus mumbled, the pieces of the puzzle coming together; her voice, her way of speaking. It's what Ventus meant when he stated his intention to lure the Blue Ranger out. She was somebody close to him. The reason she became so angry in these past two encounters. The Blue Ranger-she... "You're Ceres."

As a rejoinder, her deft fingers reached up and unlatched the helmet, and she pulled it away to reveal her face. Her flaxen locks fell about the nape of her neck like a lowering curtain and her fierce, crystalline gaze fell upon him.

He almost trembled before her, swallowing the lump in his throat. "How long?"

"A little while before that giant hotel fire," Ceres replied, casting him a measuring look. He knew that look. It was the 'don't tattle' look.

"Why are you telling me now?"

"Because, Remus, you've been in the wrong place at the wrong time and now you might be a target. When Mrs. Peterson's house got leveled, I called out for you by name. They know who you are now. Remus, you need to lay low."

He cursed inside his mind. It was bad enough that his big sister decided to moonlight as a superhero, now she got him sucked into all of this as well? Fuck no!

"So, what? You were too bored taking time off to get your shit straight, so you became a Power Ranger instead?" he growled, feeling like this whole thing wasn't fair. "And what difference does it make? No matter where I go, they're going to come after Mom and Dad now!"

"I didn't think of-"

"Of course not, Ceres!" he spat, feeling years of resentment and animosity bubble to the surface. "It's always been about you."

"I don't-"

"I'm talking, bitch," he hissed, heaving an agitated sigh as he brought his hand to his straw-colored hair and raked his fingers through it. "You knew the risks of becoming one of them, the risk of putting your family in danger. Fuck, you called out my name in front of one of them? Giving us away as family? Did you know that that freak wanted to hold me hostage because we're related, because you practically broadcasted it? And, I'll have you know that I handled myself just fine when he imploded the house. So what right do you have to... when you didn't even hesitate..."

Remus couldn't finish the sentence, his words were escaping him and the flush in his cheeks rose to a fever pitch.

"You didn't even think twice to go for that chance to become the Blue Ranger, I just know it," he said, weakly. "You've had a chip on your shoulder since the day you got gunned down. You just want the power that comes with it."

"Remus..." she placed her hand on his shoulder.

He glowered at her, swatting her hand away.

"Now I have to watch my back, Mom and Dad's too." Remus shook his head, wanting to get away from his sister. "It's just a game to you. So what right do you have to criticize my choices?"

"Remus," she said, grabbing him by the chin. "Look at me. I love you, you're my little brother. I don't want you to act like that, that guy who sleeps with married women-your friend's mom. It's not who you are. But even if it's something you're figuring out on your own, I reserve the right to disagree with your conquests."

"How would you know who I am?" he snarled. "Between the years of you advancing your career in the police department, to end up shot and dying, and all the time you spent recovering when everyone was too focused on whether or not you'd make it. And now, your fucked up relationship with Alex. I'm so sick of it always being about you!"

She said nothing, her countenance remained even.

"Do you know why Mom is pressuring you to get with Alex so much?" he asked, not giving her time to answer. "Because, you're so fucked up that no one thinks you will find anyone good like him who will put up with your shit again."

Ceres inhaled sharply, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

"So don't pretend to know me," said Remus, matter-of-factly. "You're just so selfish Ceres, so selfish."

"Remus, I never meant to..." she trailed off. "You're right. I've been selfish all this time."

There was something in his sister's gaze, something that told him she was sorry and that she wasn't playing Ranger games for the hell of it.

"I promise you that nothing bad will happen to Mom and Dad. Yes, I became a Power Ranger for the wrong reasons, I wanted to hurt people; I did hurt people. But, you know what? I'm seeing things differently now. I want to protect this city. These monsters can't be beaten by anybody but us, Remus."

She let go of his chin and he looked away, not wanting to meet her gaze any longer.

"I was scared when you were shot," he admitted. "I know I acted like I didn't care, but I did."

Ceres, the young woman in her Ranger garb-sans helmet, smiled warmly at her brother.

"And I was scared when I thought the house fell on you."

"But not so much this time?" he asked, knowing that there was little fear in this encounter.

"A little. Anything can go wrong," she said, looking at him carefully. "But, I had all of my friends with me this time."

"I won't tell anybody," he said, after a moment's silence.

Ceres, a Power Ranger. That was a lot to process and hard to keep to himself, but he could do it. Some part of him believed her, believed that she wasn't being selfish about her new powers. The old Ceres was all about loving and protecting her city when on the Police force. Maybe now, with her abilities, she could take that even higher.

She hugged him tightly, and for the first time in years, Remus Freyja returned his sister's embrace.

"You guys are getting stronger, I can tell."

* * *

The jumping capabilities of the Ranger suits had become unparalleled as of late, Virgil observed, effortlessly hauling himself nine floors into the sky before landing gracefully on the tenement's rooftop. Milo had asked him to follow her here, she had something to discuss. In truth, he found himself worrying and wondering if it was about the stunt he pulled in the cafe earlier.

He watched the powerful beauty reach up and unclasp her helmet, removing it and holding it to her side. Silhouetted by the sun, his jaw dropped as he watched her outline gorgeously shake her hair free. It was something else to see Milo in her Ranger form while also being able to gaze upon her alabaster complexion, raven-dark hair, and her soulful eyes of amber.

Instinctively, Virgil removed his helmet and held it down to his side. His dark eyes searched, desperately trying to gain some shred of insight in regards to Milo's state of mind. She smiled, letting her helmet fall to the concrete tiles with a gentle thud, as her steps drew her closer.

Before he could say another word, her lips fell on his as she drew her fingertips to his jaw line and her left hand found his left hip, pulling him close to her.

Virgil dropped his helmet, not caring where or how it landed, and found himself returning the kiss with equal passion. Blood rushed through him, raising the heat in his body as his heartbeat thrummed in his ears like thunder.

After a moment, the kiss broke and Milo pulled away.

"So," Virgil began, catching his breath. "What now?"

"Seize the day, of course," Milo giggled.

Seize the day? What on Earth did she mean by that in the first place? Did she want to start something with him? Were they an item? What?

"I'm not following-"

She drew her index finger over Virgil's lips, silencing him.

"You don't have to, Virgil," she explained, pulling her finger back. "I just want to spend some time with you and see where it goes."

"Oh," he gasped, her intentions suddenly dawning on him. "Really? Don't you have some sort of five date rule, or something?"

Milo only responded with heartfelt laughter.

"Grow up, Virgil," she said, the laughter subsiding. "That preamble is for romantics and teenagers. Aside from that, we could easily die tomorrow. We're not the only ones getting stronger."

"Yeah," he said, his eyes looking past her as he thought about the Dead Zones and the fact he had already gazed upon her lifeless eyes. He desperately pushed the image from his mind. It was a future never realized, a future he'd fight to prevent at all costs. He then mused about the Dead Zones; they were double-edged. While purification of the Dead Zones made the Rangers stronger, it also, somehow, made Azrael stronger as well.

"Virgil," Milo called out, gently.

Could she tell he was worrying about her words, their mortality-her mortality?

"Take me to your place."

**End of Chapter Fifteen**


	18. Strong of Heart

**Chapter Sixteen: Strong of Heart  
**

Naomi spent what might have been the most agonizing hour of her entire life, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, listening to Milo gush about the past three days with Virgil. The monologue didn't spare any details either, leaving Naomi wide-eyed and utterly horrified. Milo stood behind the counter, chatting excitedly about the various idiosyncrasies of her new lover-ranging from the way he looks in certain moments to how nimble he is with his tongue-that made her flush uncomfortably. She really didn't want to be hearing about this kind of thing, but it was nice to see Milo happy. So, being the kind friend that she was, Naomi listened to the best of her ability.

Milo finally came up for air, so to speak, and seemed to reading Naomi's body language; like an open book in bold print.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Naomi?" she giggled, her tone holding a note of apology as well.

"No, not at all!" Naomi lied, her body language betraying her words as her eyes widened, shifted, and desperately fled Milo's yellowish-brown stare. At the same time, throughout her visit with her friend, she had been fidgeting and drinking glasses of Coca-Cola at an unhealthy pace.

"Please, Naomi," Milo laughed, calling the blushing young woman out on her lie, "you're _blushing_."

Of course she was blushing; promiscuity had always been a touchy subject in her family and it certainly wasn't discussed openly. Of course, Milo was a good person and these liberal attitudes towards sexuality seemed to be the norm here in Angel Grove.

"Chigau-"

She slipped. She was very uncomfortable.

"I mean, you're wrong. I am not blushing."

"Oh my god!" Milo exclaimed, talking so liberally because the diner had been empty for the past hour and her chores had been done for hours. "Are you a virgin?"

Naomi sputtered, spewing her mouthful Cola all over the countertop.

"Don't get so familiar with me," she said, defensively.

Milo backed up, lifting the palms of her hands up to her chest. "I'm sorry, I thought we were friends."

Naomi shook her head, lifting her hands and slapping them down on her thighs. "That's not what I mean. It's just a personal question."

"Oh, okay," Milo said, lowering her hands.

Despite Naomi's ability to fluently read, write, and speak in English, a language barrier still existed, particularly so in social situations and moments where slang had been used.

"Are you?" Milo asked after the brief pause.

"I-" Naomi lowered her head, wondering if chastity was something to be ashamed of in Angel Grove. "Is that bad?"

Milo inhaled through her teeth. "Well, there's nothing wrong with it."

"But," she added, really enunciating the word, "this is America and sex is REALLY awesome."

"Oh," Naomi said, quietly.

"No pressure, I'm all for personal choice, but, it's really good," Milo added, smiling ear to ear.

They sat in silence before Milo gasped.

"OH! I know this perfect guy!" the waitress exclaimed. "He's become something of a regular this past week. He has such curly and blonde hair, a scholarly-but very sexy-body, and these intense brown eyes. He's so quiet, so stoic in a sexy way. If I wasn't seeing Virgil, I'd totally hit that. And, he tips good. Generosity is a good trait in a man."

"Um," Naomi said, bringing her index fingers together nervously.

"I'm totally going to introduce you two next time, no pressure, but, you might like him enough to jump on the 'bang-wagon'."

"Okay," Naomi said, unsure if this was a comfortable topic.

"But, remember, even if he's a hunk, use a condom," Milo said, shaking her index finger at Naomi in a maternal fashion. "Which reminds me, Virgil and I used up my store," she added as a self reminder.

"Oh, yes," Naomi said, trying to sound cool. "You can get those in gas station bathrooms. Very convenient."

"You know, honey," Milo began, after having brought her right hand over her face for a second. "Just come talk to me when you think it might happen."

Naomi noticed the clock above the archway into the back room, indicating that it was nearly 3 o'clock in the afternoon.

Milo turned around to look at the clock. "Oh, my shift is almost over. Grandma will be coming down to take over and the other waitress will come in and take over too."

"Your grandmother?" Naomi asked, confused.

"Oh, right. This diner used to be my Mom's, but she passed away a couple years ago." Milo explained, appearing as though she had come to terms with this fact some time ago. "So, I own this building and I let my Grandmother live here rent-free. There's an apartment above the cafe, I actually grew up here. Anyway, she helps me run the business and I have time to work on my art as well as fight demons."

"A family business," Naomi replied, conveying her understanding of what Milo said while trying not to laugh at the remark about demons.

"Yeah, a family business," said Milo, smiling. "It might be time to move on one day, but this diner has been a part of my life for so long."

The door opened, chimes heralding the arrival of a thin young woman with blonde hair. Judging by her uniform, Naomi deduced it had been Milo's relief.

"Hey Christine!" Milo cried out in an excited greeting. "How is the summer semester so far?"

"Oh, you know, the usual; take my notes and try not to doze off," Christine replied, noticing Naomi. "Hey! You're that sweetheart from freshman literature! I haven't seen you around campus. Does that mean you're off for the summer?"

"Hello, I am, yes," Naomi smiled, before standing up and speaking to Milo. "I should go, since you're almost off."

She looked back to Christine. "It was nice to meet you."

"Oh, all right," said Milo, running around the counter to come and hug Naomi. "Thanks for the visit."

"I enjoyed the girl talk," Naomi lied, hoping Milo would never, ever, discuss her sex life with Virgil in such vibrant detail.

The girls immediately began gossiping about who they were each seeing. Naomi cringed when she heard Milo talk about her and Virgil having their first date after spending the past three days in Virgil's apartment.

She needed to get out of here.

As Naomi made her way to the exit, the door opened again and Virgil entered, wearing a black, short sleeved, button down shirt that hung open to reveal the white undershirt beneath it. Naomi barely recognized him with his newly short, closely cropped, brown hair, and clean shaven face. The muscular young man placed his hands into the pockets of his denims and smiled. "Hey, Naomi."

Naomi didn't make eye contact. "H-hello, Virgil."

Images exploded in her mind, images based on Milo's recollection of events. Hands, moans, body parts; the horrifying tableaus continued to flood into her mind. Naomi couldn't look at Virgil the same way, she even saw a love bite upon Virgil's throat-as well as a red scratch mark.

Virgil looked over to Milo, a confused expression upon him.

"We had some girl talk," Milo said, answering Virgil's unspoken question. "Don't worry, I didn't go into too much detail."

"I-I- I have a lot of homework, bye!" Naomi squeaked, breaking for the door and leaving abruptly.

Her actions might have indicated otherwise, or maybe it had been some socially constructed tradition for Milo, and other American girls, to utter such fibs. Either way, Naomi needed some air.

And, what a relief it was.

Naomi deeply inhaled the mid-June air, wondering what she'd do with her afternoon. Maybe, she'd go to the library in her neighborhood, or text Ceres. Her best friend was intuitive and didn't delve into such uncomfortable details where Alex was concerned.

That was until a headline in coin operated newspaper dispenser caught her eye; Freak accidents delay repairs at historical Heaven's Way Hotel.

Naomi deposited the necessary change and withdrew the newspaper, The Angel Grove Messenger, and began reading furiously.

After a moment, she tossed the newspaper into a nearby recycling box.

She now knew how her afternoon would be spent.

* * *

Relying on public transit to get into the inner city of Angel Grove had taken her well over an hour; but, she could now see the monolith that once was the Heaven's Way Hotel towering above some of the other historical buildings. The Heaven's Way Hotel had been built in the early 1900's and had been modernized over the years as Angel Grove grew around it. This place, it was here that she met some of the other Rangers for the first time.

For Naomi, the hotel also served as a haunting reminder for her self-perceived failure.

The forlorn young woman, adorned in her yellow sundress and black strappy sandals, came to the grandiose concrete steps. Sometime in the middle of the last century, the steps had been modified to accommodate wheelchair accessibility-though almost a cruel joke for anyone in a wheelchair. The hotel had once been a ritzy establishment. However, before the fire, time had caught up with it and it became nothing more than a cheap hotel that was marginally above the minimum codes for building regulations. Some even used the rooms as apartments.

A child, no older than seven, knelt at the steps, having left a bouquet of daisies there. He looked short for his age, yet like a child that enjoyed running around and playing outdoors. Naomi smiled at the little boy and stepped closer. He looked like he had been crying, mourning over a lost loved one. All of a sudden, the boy with earth toned skin, and short black hair, noticed Naomi.

"Hello," he said, standing up and dusting off his jeans.

"Hello," Naomi replied, looking at the little boy in a grey t-shit and then over to the hotel. "My name is Naomi, did you come here alone?"

The little boy nodded while his bottom lip began to quiver again.

"Oh," she said, feeling an empathetic sting in her chest. Perhaps, his parents lost their lives in the fire. That very notion almost brought tears to her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

The boy said nothing and looked to the building.

Naomi, about to dig into her brown messenger bag, frowned at the little boy that appeared to be alone. Whichever adult that had been in charge of him needed to know where he was. "Do you need to use my phone and call an adult?"

The little boy then smiled. "Come play with me, lady."

"Play?" she asked, looking a bit lost in his words.

And then, the boy ran into the building.

"Little boy!" she cried out. "It's dangerous in there!"

Naomi sighed in protest and subsequently ran after him, ducking beneath the yellow tape, not even thinking to send a text message to any of the other Rangers before entering alone. Little did she know, that crossing the threshold would trap her within and that her cell phone would be rendered useless.

The door, that wasn't even there anymore, reappeared and slammed behind her. She turned around and tried to push it open, no luck. When Naomi turned around, the tools and evidence of the infinitesimal work done by the cleanup and construction crews had vanished before her eyes. Instead, she gazed upon what the hotel must have looked like before the blaze.

The hotel had red carpets and white, somewhat aging, floral patterned wallpaper that had likely been a result of a facelift during the 1990's. Naomi found herself in awe of the building, knowing full well how grand the building might have looked during its prime.

A concierge, wearing horn rimmed glasses, sat at the front desk, vacantly playing on her laptop while swiveling her chair back and forth in a trance-like state.

Naomi urgently walked over to the counter.

"Excuse me, miss," she began, "have you seen a little boy go by."

The curvy young woman dressed in business-casual attire did not even respond to Naomi's presence. This made her flush with anger.

She walked around the counter, about to slam the laptop shut when she noticed the date in the bottom right corner of the laptop's toolbar:

**10:30 PM**

**16/05/2011**

This-this was moments before the fires scattered in the neighborhood leapt from where they burned and laid siege upon the building. That meant that the various people she saw moving around the lobby had no idea what was about to happen. Like Ryan in the subway terminal, Naomi had been ensnared by the Dead Zone's illusion and felt compelled to warn all of the innocents here.

"Everyone! You're all in danger! Please, escape!" she cried, moving briskly though the main hallway full of closed doors. "PLEASE, leave!"

Nobody responded, no one came out to investigate the noises.

Naomi systematically moved floor by floor, crying out the same message that fell on deaf ears. By the time she came to the fifth floor, out of ten, she saw an infant barely able to walk staggering through the hallway as his young mother encouraged him, clapping her hands.

"Ma'am, please. Take your baby and leave. This hotel will be on fire soon," Naomi begged, desperately.

The young mother passed through Naomi, revealing to her that this was all just an illusion. Rather, a recollection of moments before all the people in this building had perished. A haunted recording by the collective souls that were consumed by the great inferno that ravaged the hotel.

Naomi stifled a helpless sob, now putting an innocent young face to the toll of the fallen. That baby didn't deserve this, none of the guests did.

And then, the heatless inferno blinded her, consuming all around her. The fact that they did not burn her as she closed her eyes, shielded herself, and screamed kept her in touch with reality. The mother and child were gone, lost in the brilliant flames that ensured their deaths were quick, though painful in all likelihood. Naomi wept, falling to her knees in the burning corridor.

This was the true horror they failed to prevent, what had happened before her and the other Power Rangers arrived to battle the flame demon. Lives, so many precious lives, were burnt to cinders by a cruel beast that murdered indiscriminately.

She had to keep going, she had to go to the rooftop.

Naomi ran through the corridor and up the emergency stairs this time, a stairwell of whitewashed concrete, before coming to the next floor where several flames in the form of featureless people frolicked in the hall, their hands dragging and igniting all that they touched.

She gasped, hearing the panic filled screams of men, women, and children. Only those on every floor below the fifth had been able to evacuate. The sixty souls from the fifth floor on, however, weren't as fortunate.

Her soul ached, but Naomi had to keep going. She needed to find that little boy that wandered into the Dead Zone as well. How did it come so alive when she entered? Was it calling for her like it did for Ryan, Tom, and Virgil?

She re-entered the stairway, moving to the next floor to find no sign of the child and more of those creatures playfully frolicking. Swallowing her despair, she continued until reaching the unscathed top floor.

People, of all ages, were moving about everywhere; Naomi then remembered the burning zombies that were vanquished in the encounter she shared with Milo, Ceres, and Ryan. These people, they were...

"Oh no," Naomi murmured.

As she uttered the last of her words, the soul stealing conflagration erupted and swept through. Licking and consuming all the lives but her own. The remnants of the blaze, after a few quick seconds, presented as the charred corpses, preserved in their final moments.

"No!" she screamed, bringing her hands to her face. This, all of it, was too much for her. The guilt, it already ate away at her when alone to her thoughts. To face it now, she couldn't do this.

"Why are you crying, lady?" said the child from earlier, standing behind her. "It wasn't your fault."

"But all of these people," she replied, her voice weakened by her weeping.

"Lost, it's true," said the boy. "But, we can't protect everyone. It's the hardest lesson to learn."

She turned to face him and said nothing.

"If you feel guilty and hate yourself, the reaper man will get you!" exclaimed the child, gesturing exuberantly.

"How do you know about him?" Naomi asked, wiping her tears away.

The child only smiled as a response to this.

"I lost everything and let the reaper man take me, you know."

"What?" Naomi asked. "Are you a ghost?"

The little boy stared at her blankly, refusing to offer an answer. "Think."

She did for a moment.

It was Azrael who did this, who unleashed the creature that harmed so many. Azrael, the reaper that devoured every soul from every life he snuffed out. It wasn't her fault, the child spoke a powerful truth. Her enemy did this and nothing she could have done would have altered that outcome. Instead, she needed to learn from this and let herself become stronger, not wallow in self-pity and remain weak. The key to becoming strong enough to defeat the reaper was in these trials. She had faced hers and learned what she needed to do in order to overcome this.

Naomi felt the epiphany wash her pain away, though she would never forget the lives lost. Instead, she would fight for them and fight to prevent anymore from becoming like them. This was a war between light and darkness, casualties were expected. While continuing to respect life, it also dawned on her that it-life lost-mustn't slow her down when it came to protecting the lives that people still had.

"I will defeat him, with the help of my friends. We will free all of the souls that fiend has stolen for his own gain."

The flames disappeared and the building returned to the state it had been in when Naomi had initially entered. The Dead Zone had been purified. In her mind, she then saw a vision of the motorcycles that each Ranger could now summon. It felt like a divine force held her warmly, offering her wisdom and encouragement in the same manner Tom offered them.

"Strong of heart, unbeatable by all things evil," she whispered, feeling like that's what the presence had tried to tell her. "Zordon."

What was Zordon?

The boy flashed her a dark grin and backed into the stairwell, laughing.

Naomi stood up, she had to follow that boy who ran out to the rooftop. Without further delay, her graceful steps carried her to the rooftop where the sunny skyline of Angel Grove awaited.

The boy stood at the center of rooftop, eyes on Naomi. "Thank you for playing with me, it was a lot of fun."

She narrowed her eyes. "Azrael."

The child bowed as black wisps of smoke appeared and enveloped him, only to disperse and reveal the scythe wielding mystic, standing erect at twice the height of the child, enshrouded by a hooded black mantle that billowed down to his ankles. When Naomi tried to gaze upon his features beneath the hood, it was then that she noticed the unnatural shadow that obscured his eyes and only exposed the arrogant smirk upon his face.

"Hello, Naomi, darling. I feared I would lose you for a moment there, then it would have had us both. I'm glad I was here to rein you back in," he purred. "Did you learn anything? I know I did."

He began to circle her, chuckling while holding In Terrorem menacingly.

"Zordon, the name you uttered, was a mentor to the original team of Power Rangers, I believe. This otherworldly mystic, from what I understand, sacrificed himself to destroy the evil aliens that fought the Power Rangers, once and for all. But, because there were more out there in this big scary universe, he enshrouded the Earth in order to keep anything from beyond this world out."

Naomi said nothing, squaring her shoulders and shuffling her feet to keep the front of her body facing him as he moved. Her hands, out of habit, were raised and poised to defend herself.

"What does it say about you then?" she retorted, regarding him with contempt and disdain.

"Indeed," he replied, eloquently, ceasing his movement. "A man of this world. Once a man, now a demon embodying death itself."

"Rather," he continued, "why is it that the ghost of your progenitor holds you back? Were you not already worthy of your powers? Why does he infest the city with these 'Dead Zones' as you all call them?"

"We will face any trial if it means becoming strong enough to kill you!" Naomi spat, reaching for the morpher in the bag that had been slung about her left shoulder. When she withdrew it, she tossed the bag aside, and held the morpher out with her fingers tightly coiled around the device. "SABRE-TOOTHED TIGER!"

Azrael smiled wryly, a gesture that conveyed his enjoyment of her empty promise to end him.

The device responded, unleashing a luminous yellow flash that caused ribbons of light to embrace her and change her, filling her body with a charge that made her nerve endings flare with delight.

As everything concealed her, and the helmet formed, the Yellow Ranger stood in Naomi's place.

"I apologize, Naomi, I didn't come here for a fight," Azrael crooned, sending his right hand forward and pushing her across the rooftop with some unseen force. When she stopped, he then let the same smoky black substance consume his hand.

Azrael then raised that hand above his head and various spaces on the gravelly rooftop began to open up with the very same whirling black smoke. Revenants were being summoned. Sure enough, dozens of black skeletons hauled themselves up from the portals in jerky, abrupt, movements.

"Well, as insightful as our afternoon together was, I must bid you adieu," Azrael declared, smoothly. "I called some friends up to play with you, since you seem so insistent on a fight. However, do try your best to not die, you are, after all, one of my favorites."

"Coward," she hissed, leaping to her feet and watching the horde of Revenants leave hardly any room to move.

The mystic leapt into the air and vanished from sight, leaving a resonant whisper behind. "Thanks for playing with me."

The impossible crowd began to advance on her, waving their black, bony, limbs haphazardly.

The Yellow Ranger fought ardently, shattering the skeletons, that moved by means of wicked sorcery, as they advanced; however, their numbers were sure to overwhelm her soon.

She closed her eyes saw it again in her mind, a yellow motorcycle, modified and decorated to bear the likeness of a sabre-toothed tiger. The bike itself was yellow while the plating, of the same color, around the handle bars looked somewhat like the head of a smilodon, with dagger-like protrusions running vertically. The tires were fully exposed, while the rest of the bike was adorned with fortifications that protected that which made the bike function.

When her eyes opened, Naomi found herself straddling the motorcycle-the engine causing the bike to rumble between her thighs. This, though on a confined rooftop, would drastically even the odds.

Beneath the visor, she smiled confidently, holding the clutch down and rotating her wrist several times. The bike roared like the ancestral lion it bore likeness to.

After that, she hooked her right foot beneath the gear shift, lifted her foot, and released the throttle. Her bike pressed forward, raising her front tire, and she pushed through the crowd of skeletons, shattering many as she brought the front end down. In a few more revs of the throttle she sped forward, changing gears as needed, and engaged the clutch, as well as the front brakes, causing the back tire to lift. Naomi shifted her weight, swinging the back tire into unfortunate Revenants, releasing the clutch and opening the throttle. The swift rotation of her back tire had torn them asunder.

Naomi moved about the rooftop, repeating the cycle a few more times until the last witless Revenant had perished.

The Yellow Ranger, atop her personal motorcycle, remained still on the roof of the Heaven's Way Hotel, holding a renewed confidence in her ability to be a hero as she faced the sun and gazed out at the ocean beyond the city's edge.

Though some lives were lost in this war, and would continue to be lost, her heart would remain strong and true to the cause of defeating the evil that threatened Angel Grove; her new home.

* * *

Naomi sauntered into the cafe, still invigorated by her experience of fighting Revenants atop her individual motorcycle that she, and the others, could now summon and dispel when in suit. She felt confident, empowered even. Truthfully, she couldn't wait to show off this newfound confidence to Milo, who had been engrossed in conversation with a young man fitting her description from the previous day.

The morning ushered in a new day, full of promises and new beginnings.

"My opinion?" Wyatt began. "The premise of Twilight is entirely unoriginal and Bella is a vapid, vapid creature with her mouth that gapes open. I remember being unfortunate enough to sit through the first production, I felt as though I was sitting in a zombie movie. Imagine my disappointment when Kristen Stewart's face wasn't blown to bits by a shotgun."

Milo laughed heartily, bringing her right hand over her chest. "I couldn't have said that better myself. I really don't know what some girls see in that franchise."

"Someone who will love them intensely, no matter how pathetic and passive they might be. It's a song of hope to the women that would, otherwise, not even deserve to live," he said casually, sipping his tea.

"Well, that seems a bit harsh," Naomi rang in, approaching the table. "People, no matter how misguided, still have a right to live with the hope of realizing their true potential."

Wyatt set his cup down and smiled. "Philosophical. Though, I must confess that I had been joking. I am often told that I have a VERY dark sense of humor. Forgive me," he paused, searching for a name.

"Naomi," she replied, smiling cutely at the young man.

"Naomi, that is a very nice name," Wyatt said, showing her his sharp white teeth. "And I assume that you are a friend of this lovely waitress?"

"I am," she said, looking over to Milo who then sent her one of those proud smiles for taking such initiative.

"Well then, any friend of Milo's is a dear friend of mine. Do sit down and join me, I will buy your coffee."

Naomi sat down, across from Wyatt.

"I prefer Coca-Cola," she said, politely correcting him.

"Coca-Cola it is," Wyatt chuckled, looking to Milo. "The lady across from me will have her usual."

Milo giggled and walked off to fetch Naomi's beverage of choice while she and Wyatt sat at the table for two, charming one another.

"My name is Wyatt, Naomi," said the fair skinned young man, "and I am very pleased to meet you."

**End of Chapter Sixteen**

**Author's note: **

_As some of you hardcores might have guessed, the bikes are going to be different from the series. Bikes with sidecars, like the ones in Zyuranger? No effin' way. Shark cycles? PLEASE. I reserve the right to employ licentia poetica and I'm so glad I did. ~.^**  
**_


	19. Henshin?

**Chapter Seventeen: Henshin?**

High above the city, within the clouds, a lone man hung in the sky, looking up to the celestial haven that light pollution often deprived him of. Only a few hundred years ago did such a phenomenon called light pollution never exist at all, he mused, his dark mantle billowing in the wind.

It had been several days since Azrael lured Naomi into the tainted place; a Dead Zone. Prior to her arrival, the place had been haunted, for the lack of a better term. Numerous workers were mysteriously, though not fatally, injured on site. As expected, her arrival, her presence, was the catalyst to unleash the chaotic realm infused with his stolen power and that of the original Power Rangers. For a Ranger to complete the trial, it didn't just release more power to his foes, it returned his to him as well. The experience at the hotel had been, Azrael supposed, rather edifying.

There were some suspicions he wanted brought to the light, something foreign that resided within the city itself. More of _them_.

Azrael thought of different methods to expose that which lurked in the city; he had but one elemental fiend left to unleash while the others that had fallen needed more time to regenerate and grow with his increase in power.

The idea came to him with a sinister smile.

Old, familiar, allies could now be summoned once again; loyal allies that once helped him eradicate entire battlefields and attain numerous souls. Regrettably, he still lacked the ability to summon a great many of them at a time. No, being able to only summon one at a time would still prove useful enough.

Tomorrow, Wyvern and Behemoth would come out to play.

Having had enough of his meditation beyond the reach of Angel Grove's light, the mystic then let gravity reclaim its hold of him and plummeted through the clouds-laughing darkly as he descended to the earth below.

* * *

_"Hey big bro, it's me! Long time no talk, I guess. Um, hey, I got a favor to ask-"_

William leaned back in his large black chair, comprised of fine leather, pinching the thumb and index finger of his right hand over the bridge of his nose-an exasperated gaze looming up towards the ceiling. A spontaneous update from Zane himself, how delightfully overdue. He had just begun to listen to the voice mail, and yet, he could already figure out where this message was going.

_"-I, uh, well, haha. Truth is, I fucked up big, man. I was counting cards in this shady looking casino-Vegas, am I right? And I got caught. Apparently, some legs are going to get broken. I'm packing up and hightailing it right meow, but-um-I was wondering if I could lay low in Angel Grove for a while, maybe housesit one of your condos. I don't know, like, feed the fish or whatever?"_

"Of course you did, Zane, of course," William groaned, having already given Zane enough money to keep a small family fed for years. Zane was a risk taker, confident, and a thrill seeker much like himself, but that boy just had no work ethic at all. As William toyed with the idea of cutting his little brother off, so as to afford him the opportunity to put out his own fires, he could hear loud thumps over the voice mail and angry, inaudible, yelling.

_"Ah, fuck. I gotta go, Bill. Ah, shit! They're breaking it down! Well, the second storey isn't that far of a drop. I'm gonna risk it. Call me later, bro!"_

William sat up, setting his smart phone upon the lacquered surface of his large cherry wood desk. The wide office itself had grand floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing the natural light to pour through-well, whatever light could come through the blackened storm clouds lurking in sky today. In spite of that, this office offered him a marvelous view of Angel Grove's skyline; William Cranston could oversee the entire city as though he were its one and only protector. The walls were white-washed, pristine, sharply contrasting with the dark imported wood that covered the expanse of his floor. His prized sculptures and portraits had yet to be moved from Los Angeles, the relocation of his headquarters to Angel Grove being a recent development. Learning of the fact that his godson had become a Power Ranger, well, that hastened his plans a little; however, it felt great to be home again, though he barely had any time for Tom these days.

William sighed.

Alone, in his vast office, he sat, processing the message his brother left for him, finding himself much too preoccupied to mentally chastise Tom for attempting to fill the role of Zordon. For a moment, he pondered as to whether or not Zane was even safe at this point. Regrettably, he just had to put those feelings aside for the moment; Alexander had been kind enough to clear a space in his day for him after all.

However, he could also have the matter taken care of while he worked. Zane held the luck of Lucifer himself, matters could always be handled later should any harm come to his brother. What the CEO of Cranston Industries did next was pick up the receiver for the large black phone on his desk, holding the intent to directly dial his secretary who worked beyond the large double doors of his office.

"Trish, I have a personal favor to ask of you," William crooned gently, erasing all worry and concern from his voice and demeanor. "Contact Zane, my brother, and let him know that I am staying in Angel Grove. I want him to call me once he's in town. Thank you so much, and yes, please send Mr. Orpheus in if he's here early."

There, that took care of that for the time being. With any luck, Zane would turn up safe and sound. He then reached for his smart phone, silenced it, and placed it within the top drawer of his desk. This meeting with Alexander, it had to go perfectly, he wanted the support of the mayor to be. Though the election was not yet won, William, as well as many other socialites, knew that Alexander would win by a landslide. The man was a soothsayer, his words elegant and carrying the wisdom of an old soul. Someone like that, well, he was the kind of person that Angel Grove needed, now more than ever.

The heavy doors opened, heralding the arrival of his esteemed guest-William rose to meet him.

Alexander Orpheus, in his tailored black suit, with a silver tie, came forth, smiling pleasantly at William. As the olive skinned man took his benefactor's hand, his emerald gaze connected with Cranston's own steel blue stare as they shook hands firmly. Both men then sat on opposite sides of the desk, the meeting about to commence.

"William," Alexander said, his voice like silk. "It is good to see you, though, I am rather curious as to why you wanted to meet with me today. Tell me, what can one friend do for another?"

"Alexander," William replied, reciprocating his associate's pleasant greeting. "The pleasure is mine as well. And, I suppose it makes sense to tell you why I've invited you here. First, may I offer you any kind of beverage."

The attractive man, looking rather youthful for being in his early forties shook his head. "No, thank you."

"Very well," said William, clasping his hands together on the surface of his desk. "What I need to bring to your attention is of the utmost importance. As you know, I am a developer of many technologies."

Alexander nodded, leaning slightly upon the large armrest of the black chair, his temple lightly resting on his knuckles as he kept his head propped.

"Well, what many don't know is that I possess the knowledge and skill to build something that can save us all in these dark times."

"You refer to the sightings of strange creatures, I assume," Alexander purred, his interest obviously piqued.

"Indeed," William continued, the left corner of his mouth drawing into a smirk. "That is exactly what I mean."

Alexander made a low rumble in his throat, one that conveyed intrigue.

"What if I were to tell you that I have developed a system that surpasses that of the Power Rangers?" William asked, eyes glittering with pride as he anticipated Alexander's reaction. Much to his disappointment, his associate remained stoic and waited for him to continue. Following the cue, William broke the silence. "They are cumbersome, are they not? The Power Rangers? What if I were to render them obsolete, remove them from the public eye. All the while, utilizing my latest advancement to protect your city-no, our city."

The future mayor blinked, processing those words.

"That might prove...interesting. Yet, what proof do you have of this? While the Power Rangers are indeed a thorn in everyone's side, as well as the city's budget, easily doing more harm than good, what guarantee would I have that I am not, in this present moment," he paused, likely finding a more polite way to speak his mind, "privy to the words of a raving lunatic? While I respect you a great deal, William, you must be aware of how you sound to me."

William's breath snagged. That was hardly polite at all. Lunatic, truly?

"I can see that you are skeptical, Alexander, yet, I can assure you that my claims are sincere. If you are looking for a guarantee, a demonstration even, what would you have me do, pray tell?" William's pitch rose, almost defensively.

A loud roar resounded as a black mass flew alongside the vast windows of William's office. Their heads turned to meet the noise when the creature, a large reptilian beast, latched to the side of the building. The beast, no, the dragon, could easily extinguish their lives right now, if it so desired. Another demonic manifestation, choosing his tower as its roost. The dragon had to be at least the length of a city bus, laden with thick muscles, and black scales that shone like a precious metal. While William felt his heart in his mouth, taking in the sight of a large red eye that narrowed in on them. Alexander leaned back into the chair and crossed his arms, meeting its stare with indifference, scoffing even.

The dragon let go of the building, spanning its massive leathery wings and taking flight. The two men were able to see more of it, the powerful haunches, the thick trunk, the prehensile tail that could easily disintegrate concrete, the large arm-like appendages with menacing claws, and the elongated snout that reminded William of the fabled Wyvern, as though it had leapt straight from the pages of a fantasy encyclopedia.

Regaining his breath, William's composure returned immediately and he bolted to his feet, running to the window. "That was close. Alexander, why were you so calm?"

"William," he chuckled, rising to his feet, "I do not scare so easily, especially when I willingly strive to become the mayor of a city that 'aliens'," he enunciated that one word, aliens, almost patronizing the notion, "attacked almost twenty years ago. This place is dangerous and any one of us could easily perish."

"Even so," William said, still in disbelief that a civilian could be so composed in the face of such evil, "death is sudden and terrifying, no matter how ready you think you might be for it."

"Indeed," Alexander mused, smiling, almost appearing to appreciate William's sentiments. "Would you hypothesize that this Wyvern in our skyline goes beyond the scope of the Power Rangers?"

"Affirmative," William said, staring out the window, silently cursing himself for slipping into such a silly old habit. Yet, the brass cogs in his mind went to work immediately, causing a lupine smile to spread across his face. "Let me show you."

* * *

William's personal helicopter lingered in the skies of Angel Grove, providing a splendid view of the city. The added danger of their vulnerability to the Wyvern, on the other hand, offered a thrill like no other, more potent than any drug known to man. He held a chrome briefcase upon his lap, bearing the logo of Cranston Industries, watching Alexander in the seat across from him. It was strange, almost as though his companion was having the time of his life. Didn't he fear the Wyvern at all? The odds of surviving this field test were quite unfavorable. William even took care to explain that thoroughly before they had boarded the aircraft. In spite of the fact that they could be swatted down from the sky, Alexander assured him that this simply made things a lot more entertaining.

"I would like to spend more time with you, William," said Alexander, his white grin flashing with all of his charm. "I can't say that I have any other associates so interesting. What's more, I had no idea you were going to personally engage this monster."

William smirked, waiting for the helicopter to fly above the Wyvern before he could execute his next maneuver.

"No, really. It's impressive, to see such hands on ambition," Alexander said in earnest. "I really feel as though people do not often appreciate such a quality within you."

He nodded, thanking his new friend; however, he had his own reasons for doing what he needed to do. Granted, this wouldn't be his first transformation, but, this would definitely be his first fight with the gear. This would prove everything, his ability to vanquish the new, evil, power with the purity of Zordon's once lost power. Though Tom allowed himself and Ryan to be swayed by something so dark, it was all thanks to Tom's Dead Zone research that he had been able to draw a hypothesis that Zordon's essence yet lingered. The difficulty, which he had recently overcome, had been tapping into it. Having been able to pinpoint the exact location of Zordon's protective sphere, the remnants of the morphing grid, William now had orbital satellites connected to this network of vast morphing energy at all times-his new morphing grid.

"We're above it now!" yelled the pilot, from the cockpit. "Can you make the drop?"

"Of course I can," William said, standing up and opening the case to withdraw a large, metallic belt from it.

"This is your new weapon?" Alexander asked, watching William with genuine curiosity.

William nodded, latching the belt, exerting most of his mental energy so as to combat his anxiety. This, this was a big moment, his heart raced within his chest. All of those years before, he had been little more than the strategist, the inventor, and the Blue Ranger. Though he could not make Alexander aware of his past, the words praising his ambition and lamenting how it must be overlooked had hit home. Now, here in this moment, he would use everything he had within, all he had become, to transform into a god; it was time.

He took the satellite phone from the case and clutched it tightly, pouring all of his hopes and dreams into it. He closed his eyes, centering himself, so much rode on this outcome.

"I assume it allows you to transform," Alexander wondered aloud, his green eyes casting a measuring look upon William.

How better to answer than to demonstrate, William supposed, flipping the large phone open and dialing the number 'five' three times-confirming the code by pressing 'send'. With that, the phone emitted a neutral male voice as a continued pulsing noise sounded off, signifying the entry of the code to his special satellites.

_**Standing by!**_

"Henshin!" cried William, closing the phone and latching it down into the front of his belt, turning it, and locking it in place. The voice sounded off once more, the pulsing had ceased.

_**Complete!**_

From the belt, red lines of energy emerged from four different points-moving down the front of his legs while moving up his torso and embracing him in crimson light. Black synthetic material, impenetrable, yet somewhere in between leather and spandex encompassed him everywhere below his neck. A black, red, and silver helmet covered his face, two red lines bisecting the large yellow circle that he could see through-protruding from his helmet like antennae, inspired by the Greek letter 'phi'. A silver breast plate, with a red energy line below the ribs that also moved up the center of his torso and lined the collar area, appeared upon his chest. On his shoulders, round black and red pauldrons appeared. All the while, silver rings at his wrists, and elbows, had formed as well. And, to complete the ensemble, silver protectors formed at his knees and ankles. The red light that had illuminated the inside of the helicopter subsided; William's transformation was complete.

"Marvelous!" Alexander gasped, taking in the suit and all of its splendor. This had definitely impressed him, William smiled behind the yellow visor. "What do you call this?"

"I call the suit Kamen Rider Faiz, and with it, I believe that the Power Rangers are no match," William answered, turning to the case and reaching for what looked like an orange wrist device, oblong in shape.

"Incredible," Alexander smiled, eyes wide with fascination. "Show me your power."

William latched the device to his left wrist and then grabbed two more items from the case; a square like device and long silver cylinder, connecting both to opposite hips. He now had the arsenal on his person, ready to be used against Wyvern. The gear he invented, it had a serious designer flaw that he just could not get around. All of the apparatus for powerful attacks had to be connected to the belt prior to combat. Without them, Faiz's full power could not be utilized.

Without words, William slid open the main door of the aircraft and let gravity take its hold over him.

During his descent, he twisted several times in the air until he had his feet pointing downward. He knew that the fall would kill him if he fell the entire drop, yet, he wasn't aiming for the ground, nor the rooftops below. No, the newly transformed Rider aimed for the Wyvern itself. As his foot drove into the black creature's vast snout, William kicked off and leapt away from the now lunging dragon, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws that could easily rend a large man upon the first bite. He realized that he barely fazed the creature and continued to strategize in the heat of the moment. His feet came upon the closed maw, as he took note that the creature had a difficult time reopening its mouth, and he ran along its spine, reaching for the square device and coiling his fingers around its handle with his right hand. When he came to a stop at the base of Wyvern's wings, he withdrew a slender chip from the phone on his belt and latched it onto the back of the square-like knuckleduster.

_**Ready!**_

William then opened the phone lying horizontally on his belt, running his left thumb over a button that invoked more power from the heavens-literally, and closed it once more.

_**Exceed charge!**_

His belt emitted a bright red light along the right side of his belt buckle, sending the light up an energy line that travelled all the way to his right hand. Once the power had been completely channeled into William's hand, he raised his fist high above his head and then crouched to drive it, with full force, into Wyvern's back. The attack was devastating, unleashing a crimson flash that took the form of the letter phi before completely disappearing. The dragon's wings were broken and the creature could no longer fly. Standing fast upon Wyvern's back, they both careened towards the rooftop of one of Angel Grove's skyscrapers. They made impact, sliding over the rooftop, destroying all in their path, before stopping just at the opposite ledge of the lofty platform. The creature roared in agony as the dust settled, having been dealt such a crippling blow.

William smirked, feeling as though critical thinking and strategy had prevailed. The monster's wings were clipped before it could even terrorize the sky, he had won. The Power Rangers, with all of their inexperience, were responsible for so much collateral damage in their battles. With his power, he would render them obsolete. They could not defend the city, they just couldn't. These were kids, innocent kids drawn in by the remnants of Lord Zedd's black magic. How could anyone who knew better ever allow them to put their lives in such danger, as well as the lives of many others? As Tolstoy had put it, all that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.

"Ryan, your burden will become mine," William said softly, remaining atop the fallen Wyvern as he removed the chip from his weapon and replaced into his belt, subsequently, he set the square device upon his belt once more.

A vicious roar interrupted this thought process, perhaps, the fight had yet to end. The creature reared back, sending William sprawling down to the rooftop. As he recovered from the fall, a large prehensile tail came down towards him, smashing down upon the gravel as he evaded. Amidst the flying rocks, William regained his footing and dodged another blow from the tail. The debilitated dragon had become angry, turning to face the assailant that had robbed it of flight. It opened its large mouth, revealing a molten glow from its throat.

William cursed to himself, deciding to take a risk with his next move. He reached for the long silver cylinder this time, inserting a chip from his belt into it before latching it-vertically-to his right ankle. There was a chance that it might not work as he had yet to test it. C'est la vie, now would be the time.

_**Ready!**_

If this worked, he'd be giving Alexander quite a show. William then took his right thumb and slid it across the orange wrist device, removing the chip to trade it with the one of the chips upon his belt. He finalized the transaction, activating the mechanism with a faint click.

_**Complete!**_

The breast plate flashed with a white light as all of the red energy lines upon his body lost their color. On the front and back, a dividing line cleaved the plate and its pieces lifted to the shoulders-revealing a metallic core of energy at the center of his chest. It worked, the device had enabled him to shift into the suit's 'Accel Form'.

"Here goes nothing!" cried William, pressing the large red button on the wrist device before crouching like a lioness poised to hunt down its prey. He'd have ten seconds to finish this. The device sounded off with a powerful thrumming that would last for the duration of this form.

_**Start up!**_

The flames spewed forth, though William had already departed from his crouch. The now black and white Rider moved in a speed unseen to the human eye, launching a furious and powerful kick into the soft underbelly of the beast. Wyvern staggered back and, as soon as William reappeared, he was gone again, leaping high into the air. Several drill-like blossoms of crimson energy materialized and dug into the dragon's flesh. William appeared, delivering a lethal kick by disappearing into one of the blossoms as they all converged upon the large black dragon. An explosion resulted, causing a powerful noise to erupt as a crimson flash ignited where Wyvern stood, the letter phi leaving an imprint for but a second. Blue flames erupted from the creature as it fell into fine piles of grey sand. Such was the power of Faiz; the power to reduce its enemies to ashes.

_**Three! Two! One!**_

He reappeared in a crouching position, back turned to the Wyvern's ashen remains. It had worked, the form change and attack had worked! His creation, it's power was marvelous! Beneath the yellow visor, he began to shed tears of joy. Ryan would no longer need to fight, the city of Angel Grove had a new champion. Yes, the era of the Power Rangers had ended with him, Tom, and the others, and so, it would remain in the past where it belonged. Kamen Riders, his Kamen Riders, would mark the beginning of a new era.

_**Time out!**_

William withdrew the chip from his belt, replacing the one from the wrist device and belt to their rightful places.

_**Reformation!**_

The plates closed upon his torso, red light returning to the lines of energy. William now looked as he did when he had transformed initially. He stood erect, looking up to the helicopter that Alexander had watched him from. There would be no doubt from Alexander now, he knew it. With the mayor's approval, the public approval would follow. Together, they would demonize the Power Rangers and elevate his platoon of Kamen Riders in the public eye. Everything he had orchestrated; the research on Dead Zones, the engineering of the Rider Systems, funding Alexander's campaign, and now personally demonstrating his power to Alexander-all of it came to fruition on this day.

Today, for William, marked the beginning of the end for the Power Rangers.

"Thomas, it's time to open your eyes for the next phase."

**End of Chapter Seventeen**

**Author's Note:  
**This has been a long time coming! I have spent the past eight weeks plugging at both this chapter, and the next, whenever I had a sliver of free time. I am quite eager to introduce William as a Kamen Rider in this story-as this was my intention from the get go. Now, bear in mind that this timeline formed as a sort of paradox before the Subway Attack had transpired. Things that shouldn't belong will pop up in strange places. A prime example; William invented the Faiz, Kaixa, and Delta Gear. I hope you enjoyed this! I have over three quarter of the next chapter completed, so stay tuned!


	20. Strawberries and Mace

**Chapter Eighteen: Strawberries and Mace**

It was among the cacophony of the dragging rubber, the stifled sneezes, and the dry coughs, that the number two pencils scrawled across the papers desperately. Final exams were underway and the gymnasium was no longer Remus Freyja's happy place. No, this sanctuary of blood and sweat-the place where he reigned as an athletic god-had now been smothered by rolls of beige rubber mats that smelled like cream of mushroom soup and feet. He shuddered, feeling as though the smell would make him puke.

_Just a little further_, he thought, encouraging himself, _only_ _30 questions separating you from summer vacation_.

Someone sneezed and the graphite of his mechanical pencil snapped, causing him to curse under his breath.

Mr. Oliver, who had been moving up and down the aisles, scanning for any cheaters with his ruddy, calculating eyes, had heard him. The chemistry teacher narrowed his gaze, directing it towards Remus, before turning and walking away to watch over the others.

He watched Mr. Oliver, in his white golf polo and khakis, move away from him. Why did teachers always dress like morons? However, despite the dorky appearance, it was plain to see that Mr. Oliver could be categorized as one of those hip, and physically active, teachers.

Remus never knew too much, because his teacher didn't really care for him. It might have had something to do with Remus's apathy in class, the constant truancy, his reputation as the school's womanizer, or maybe even how he treated Mr. Oliver's kid-er, nephew-whatever; Ryan. Regardless of the reason, those feelings were definitely mutual.

And, as much as Remus disliked Mr. Oliver, something about that man scared the shit out of him. He'd heard a bunch of wild rumors that ranged from his teacher having multiple black belts, his night life as a cage fighter, how he moonlights as a Power Ranger, the fact that he runs a secret fight club, and even an outlandish rumor that he ripped out another man's throat with his bare hands. Remus often dismissed the rumors, wondering how some people could so shamefully base such rumors on Fight Club and Roadhouse without having people make those connections. But, if common sense told him anything, the bit on the black belts had more than likely been a concrete fact.

He swallowed hard, watching his chemistry teacher's lithe, almost predatory, gait. His father and sister served on the force, he grew up with it; therefore, to an extent, Remus could tell when people were more than what they wanted others to believe. It wasn't uncommon for these kinds of people to want to blend in, or not to have attention drawn to them, often hiding their true prowess.

Hiding their-

_Oh my god._

-true prowess.

What if Mr. Oliver had been hiding something important? Like Ceres?

She'd know the other Rangers, he knew she knew them. Of course, it was a detail that she refused to share with him when he had pushed her to do so. It struck him suddenly; he wanted to expose the other Rangers. He may have chosen to honor her secret, but everyone else be damned. They were fair game.

Remus inhaled, heavily, slumping back into his chair.

Still, how would he even know where to begin looking? Mr. Oliver, maybe? Maybe. Yes indeed, Mr. Oliver, as far as he was concerned, had just become one of his Power Ranger suspects. Even if it wasn't true, it would be a perfect opportunity to sharpen his detective skills-in case this whole college football dream fell on its ass.

_College, shit._

Remus began flipping through the exam booklet and making graphite marks for the remaining multiple choice questions on his exam sheet. He needed to start taking his courses a bit more seriously. Of course, on the last day of his junior year, that decision might have come a bit late. Thank goodness his grades were marginally acceptable, for the time being.

This diligence had been short lived and his eyes began to wander, this time falling on Violet, who happened to be seated directly beside him in the row to his right. Rather, his attention landed on her breasts as they bounced happily to whichever beat she had in mind during her spell of concentrating and dancing while seated. She stopped, as though she had found the answer in her mind's eye, and began to mark upon the answer sheet. The young woman paused again, moving her hands along the hem of her pink sundress-with white polka dots-just below the knee. Her semi-loose scarlet locks, tied back though hanging freely at the same time, hung about the nape of her neck and Remus found himself watching in awe as her heavy lips slid up and down the yellow pencil, the pink eraser sliding slowly into her mouth.

He swallowed, feeling an eager tremor move throughout his whole body.

No, this would not do at all.

Remus averted his gaze and closed his eyes tightly, desperately trying to push the image of Violet and him, together, out of his mind. Not the class weirdo, anyone but her. Oh god, this was not what he wanted to be thinking about right now.

He exhaled, composing himself, as his attention returned to the exam pages.

Was she still?

He looked, helpless to the allure it held. However, the pencil now rested upon the desk and Violet had slightly opened her legs, gently itching her inner thigh. His eyes widened and he quickly looked back to his desk. When he looked back after a few seconds, Violet was looking directly at him with her large brown eyes. Her brow furrowed and she mouthed: "What the fuck?"- Before turning her attention back to her exam.

Remus flushed, feeling the heat build in his cheeks as he sheepishly stared down at his desk and began to fidget with his pencil.

This exam was going to be a brutal and painful process.

After several painful minutes, Remus had finally achieved a state of momentum; reading questions, processing the questions, not staring at Violet's breasts, and leaving the graphite notches upon the answer sheet provided. He sighed, despising the feelings of confinement to this desk, this gymnasium. The public education system was nothing more than a prison, made to indoctrinate the something-something, he completely forgot what exactly his buddy had said about it, but still, it sucked balls. And then, that momentum was lost. He held his head up with his right arm, leaning and resting on the palm of his hand; it was fun to mentally undress his female classmates.

Violet gasped, abruptly, dropping her pencil and startling a few people nearby, including himself-his head slipped from his hand, causing it to nearly hit the desk. After recovering from the embarrassing slip up, he watched her rise from her desk, moving over to Mr. Oliver. This was interesting; Ryan had got up, too. The three of them whispered over by the teacher's desk, at the head of all the rows, something was happening. It was awfully convenient that both Ryan and Violet were, out of the blue, up and talking to Mr. Oliver, a person of interest in his little extracurricular investigation.

Promising leads? Abso-fucking-lutely. He'd probably have an easier time learning all he wanted to if he followed Violet. If they had something to hide, Remus imagined she'd be the sloppy one.

Oh! No! Mr. Oliver had given them the okay to leave! Shit! Shit! Shit! Why would he do that? Good god, they were so freaking conspicuous that he almost wanted to bang his head into the desk a few times. But, he couldn't let Violet get away. No, he would follow her, torment her, and pry all of the delicious information he wanted to hear out of her. If they were getting free passes from the teacher that had the strut of an action hero, those two were, indeed, very solid leads. And, that is why Remus did what he did next, randomly dashing the pencil against the answer sheet so as to leave a random pattern of marks beneath A, B, C, and D.

"I'm done!" he exclaimed, jumping up from his desk and throwing the pencil down. Everyone in the gymnasium turned their heads, glowering at him. The young man smiled sheepishly, breaking into a sprint down the rows and out the doors into the school's hallway. Mr. Oliver yelled something after him, but, he didn't hear it (or give a shit for that matter).

His footsteps echoed through the hallway, long since renovated a decade ago, painted in pale hues of blue while the navy lockers contrasted against the lighter colored walls and smoky tiles. Rooms, doors, and fellow students blurred through his field of vision as he raced to the main stairwell that snaked upstairs to the lockers reserved for juniors and seniors. When Remus cleared the final step, he saw Violet and Ryan talking in the hallway. Reflexively, he hid behind a support wall, peeking around the doorframe to see and listen to the exchange.

"What was that just now? Did you hear that noise? Did you feel it in your stomach too?" Violet queried, looking at the weasel-looking boy who crossed his arms and refused to make eye contact with her-like some moody anime kid.

"Monsters, obviously. And, by the way, that noise coming from our morphers, that only we can hear, is called a trill. Hm, I can even tell where they are," he stated, matter-of-factly. "One is flying around and the other one is somewhere by the coast, the warehouses. We need to get moving, I can sense that the others are moving towards the one near the warehouses."

Remus smiled from ear to ear, bracing against the wall. Monsters? Others? And by others, did that little punk mean his sister and the sexy jogger from before? If he wasn't certain before, he was definitely certain of it now; Violet and Ryan are Power Rangers. He continued to linger, waiting for the exchange to finish.

"Maybe, so, want to ride together! We can make an epic entrance!" Violet exclaimed happily.

"God damn it, Violet," Ryan hissed, turning away. "Keep your voice down, and no, I'm going there myself. Hurry up and get over there, too."

With that, Ryan walked hurriedly to the opposite end of the hallway, using the fire escape to exit the school without being bothered by anyone. Remus chuckled quietly, they were so busted. Violet huffed and walked over to her locker, slamming it open, reaching for her Domo backpack and stuffing items into it angrily. Remus rounded the corner and advanced towards her, a victorious swagger in his gait.

"Violet," he drawled, coming to rest against the locker to her left, leaning and bracing his left forearm against it. His gaze looked her up and down as he smirked, nice, smooth, and sexy-like. "'Sup?"

She blinked several times, before reaching into her bag for a small aerosol bottle of breath spray. When she had it in hand, she withdrew it, turned towards him, and sprayed the contents directly into his eyes without any sort of provocation. "NO MEANS NO!"

"FUCKING MOTHERFUCK! GOD DAMN IT! MY EYES!" Remus screamed, feeling this immense sting as he covered his hands over his face. The tear ducts began to work right away, making it sting even worse. "WAS THAT MACE? IT SMELLS LIKE STRAWBERRIES!"

"Stay back, rapist!" Violet shouted in reply, "I saw those weird looks in the gym!"

Remus blinked, regaining his vision in spite of the fact that his eyes were bloodshot and hurt like hell. "What? I'm not going to rape you!"

"Don't lie to me, you pervert!" growled Violet, pointing the spray bottle at him in a threatening fashion. "Keep your hands where I can see them!"

"But-"

She sprayed him again, laughing when he screamed out in pain.

"Strawberry Delight Breath Spray, bitch!"

Stifling a sob, Remus rubbed the flavored alcohol compound out of his eyes and shielded his face, in case she decided to spray him again. What the fuck? Why was she doing this? This was, undeniably, the most screwed up and painful exchange he ever had with a girl. "You crazy bitch!"

Ignoring such a disparaging remark, Violet made a low noise in her throat, violently closing her locker, before slamming the backpack into Remus' stomach-winding him-as she shoved past him. He staggered over to a nearby water fountain and began to splash cold water into his eyes, getting all of the strawberry breath freshener out of them. The young man, with eyes blotted and red, and a shirt now wet down the front, then ran after Violet, reaching her before she came to the bottom of the stairwell.

"Hey!" he yelled out after her, "Where are you going?"

"Away from you, rapist," said Violet, not even giving him a second look as she stepped onto level ground.

"I'm not a rapist," Remus cried, in a whispered hush, coming to her side. "Where are you really going?"

Violet stopped, balling her hands into fists. Remus cowered slightly, raising his hands to shield his face.

"It's none of your business, Remus," she hissed, looking like she toyed with the idea of causing him bodily harm.

He steeled himself over, not wanting to let this weird girl get the better of him. Remus had a mission; uncover the identities of the Power Rangers. Violet would not shake his resolve, even if she sprayed that crap into his eyes again. For fuck's sake, he was on the football team, a solid two thirty wall of muscle, six foot two! Who was she? He'd wrest that bottle from her hands if she tried to use it on him again. This little freak wouldn't make him look like a pussy anymore.

"The warehouses, maybe. That's probably where my sister is going," he said casually.

"Yeah-I mean no," she stammered, recovering quickly. "That's not true at all. Why would I go there? The warehouses? Your sister? You really ARE stupid," Violet began to laugh, nervously.

"I knew it," he whispered. "You're one of them too. I caught Ceres and now I've caught you. I also happen to know that the Yellow Ranger is a cute little Asian, and Ryan is one of them too. What about Mr. Oliver? He seemed pretty inclined to let you two go and talk monster strategies in the hallway. The jig is up, Violet. I know what you are."

It was then that Violet relaxed her hands, her countenance suddenly becoming lustful. She turned to Remus and moved over to him, laying her hands upon his chest. "Oh, Remus," she cooed, her voice breathy and sultry as she ran her fingertips over the contours of his muscles. "I had no idea you had so much," she paused to find the words, "cunning, and," she moaned, her lips brushing the nape of his neck while her right hand moved along the curves of his spine, "tenacity."

He stood, shocked, and almost backed against a wall as she had come onto him. His eyes were wide and his arms hung uncomfortably as Violet felt and groped him. Remus felt a flush in his cheeks as his heart began to thunder in his chest. Wh-what was going on?

"It is such a turn-on, Remus," Violet whispered, lips on his right ear as she pulled him down to them. "Please, take me, I can't resist."

Remus couldn't resist the smile that came to him. Violet? Willing? Especially in the light he had seen her in earlier? Yeah! She wasn't his type, but she had sexual energy he had no idea she had-and, he had never done it in the school.

"Oh yeah?" Remus asked, trying to sound cool and confident. "You want me?"

"No," Violet said, abruptly, in her typical inflection, squeezing the back of his neck with her right hand.

"But-"

"DICK PUNCH!" she cried, striking him in the groin with her other hand, and all of her strength.

Remus groaned, exhaling sharply, as Violet stepped away from him. Pain exploded from his groin and rolled over him like torrents of fire. He wanted to vomit, his vision blurred, and he was sure he'd pass out from the unwelcome sensations that gripped him. The young man collapsed to all fours, dry heaving.

"Get over yourself, idiot!" Violet shouted, hands on her hips. "You have no idea what I am."

"I just want to know the truth," he said in labored, raspy breaths.

"YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!" she yelled, standing back to her full height before walking away from him.

Remus watched her walk down the hallway as he let the pain run its course. She was getting away; he couldn't let her get away. He coughed again, almost wanting to shed tears of pain. Violet turned some twenty yards ahead of him, as though she had something to add.

"RAPIST!" she called out to him, almost bending over for how loud she had yelled, some students just passing by turned to look at her and then to Remus, laughing. Looking satisfied, she turned back towards the doors and made her exit.

"But, you came on to me!" Remus called out, weakly, slowly rising to his feet.

* * *

Opening the door of her silver Corolla, Violet glided into the sedan, and tossed Domo-kun into the back seat. The 2010 model, a birthday gift from her parents, was mostly tidy, with the exception of a few candy wrappers here and there. She sighed in relief, finally getting away from Remus. He was onto them, and he even said something about catching Ceres. Violet scoffed, checking her mirrors out of habit. It was hardly surprising that the dumb bitch with a chip on her shoulder couldn't keep it a secret. Maybe, if she told Mr. Oliver, he'd take her morpher away. With that thought, she smiled gleefully.

Violet slid the key into her ignition, preparing to turn it, when the passenger door flew open. As a result, an unwanted guest flopped down into the seat and slammed the door.

"Get out of my car, rapist," she said evenly, wishing she had locked the doors.

"No," Remus growled, crossing his arms in a similar fashion to toddler that protested.

Her eyes darted to another bottle of 'Strawberry Delight' breath spray in one of her cup holders. Violet snatched it and poised to spray her would be weapon when Remus grabbed her hand to pry the bottle from her fingers. A brief struggle ensued until Remus emerged the victor, throwing the spray into the back seat and well out of her reach.

"Fine," Violet conceded throwing her hands up in the air, "you win, let's go."

Both fastened their seatbelts before Violet started the vehicle. Once that had been taken care of, the car rolled forward as they sat in angry silence.

"Where are we going?" asked Remus, leaning his head against the passenger window.

Violet's right hand shot out to the large dial upon her stereo's dashboard and turned it as far she could-the volume control.

_~Gee, gee, gee, gee, gee! Baby, baby, baby, baby! Gee, gee, gee-_

She delighted in how much the sudden high pitch of the Korean vocalists seemed to hurt his ears, but frowned when he reached for the dial and turned it off. They moved through a residential neighborhood before turning onto another street, several varieties of stores, palm trees, and people passed them by on her side as Angel Grove Park moved against the silhouette of Remus for a moment.

"I asked you a question," said Remus, now sitting straight as he glowered over at her.

"To get tampons; I have my period," she replied, wielding a coy smile as she all but danced in her seat. "Would you like to talk about my period?"

"Go ahead and try that approach, because you won't weird me out," Remus drawled, lifting his chin arrogantly. "You obviously haven't met my mother. Between her and Ceres, I knew more than I needed to know about the flow before I was six."

Violet rolled her eyes. "Then we won't talk about my period."

They drove further down the street, getting closer to the highway that would egress into the warehouse subdivisions along the coast. It would be another ten minutes, traffic permitting, if she continued that. However, an idea had already hatched in her mind; Violet intended to abandon Remus here, in downtown Angel Grove. She signaled right and pulled into the parking lot of a Waffle House, quickly finding a place to park her car.

Remus arched an eyebrow as she engaged the parking brake and turned off the vehicle. "I thought you were buying tampons."

"Well, I'm hungry," Violet lied, her eyes shifting, "because, I'm on my period."

"Yeah, uh huh," Remus sighed, shaking his head. "You're buying then."

"Why?" she asked, unlatching her seatbelt, grunting, and straining as she knelt across to the backseat, grabbing Domo-kun.

"Um, I don't know," said Remus, before raising his voice. "Maybe, it's because you sprayed me in the eyes twice and punched me in the dick after coming on to me!"

"Oh, that," Violet giggled, twisting her body and resting herself back into a proper seating position. She watched Remus intently. "So, um, aren't you going to get out?"

"Why? So you can lock the door and speed off?"

"I-" she spluttered, but Remus interrupted her.

"No, I'm not book smart, but, I'm not stupid either. After you, Violet."

This was going to be harder than she thought.

* * *

Furrowing her brow, the young woman with auburn locks angrily stuffed her car keys into her bag and muttered under her breath. Violet then opened the door, got out, slammed it shut, and stormed across the parking lot, heading towards the building. Satisfied with how he continued to outmaneuver Violet since those few embarrassing moments at school, Remus got out of the car and ensured the doors were locked-closing the passenger door.

With a confident smile, he began to follow Violet. "Winning."

What then happened, before his strides could carry him all the way across the parking lot, was something that he could not explain. A foreign sounding boom echoed across the overcast sky, causing Remus and many others on the streets to turn in alarm. What was that? Was it thunder, or a sonic boom? No, there had been a brilliant flash of crimson that illuminated atop the skyscrapers. Had something he'd been oblivious to gone down over there? What could have possibly caused that kind of noise and light show? There was no use guessing what it might have been, it was over now. Taking a deep breath, Remus shrugged his large shoulders and made his way into the Waffle House as Violet had already gone inside.

The inside of the Waffle House was nothing special; brown tiles on the floor, dull yellow walls, red tables of wood and plastic, red seats in the benches, and stainless steel swivel stools at the counter with-a lot of the same color, he supposed-red padding. If you didn't sit at the counter, you had to sit in a booth with the bench seats. Waffle House; where him and his buddies would come and troll after games, or when they had been drinking.

Remus found Violet sitting alone at a corner booth, furthest from the door, looking like she did not want to be here. The muscular youth raised his chin, offering her a roguish smirk as he strolled over to her booth. When he took the opposite seat, he looked around and noticed how empty the place was; it was time broach the subject again. "So, I bet not being able to ditch me and go help your friends is driving you crazy right now, huh?" Remus asked, waiting for some kind of reaction.

He couldn't help but snicker as she rolled her eyes and shook her head with irritation.

"Nope, I just need to get tampons," Violet lied, rising from the booth. "I'm going to the bathroom."

He turned to her and shot his left arm out to catch her by the right wrist. "Is that so?"

She stopped and exhaled a low rumble from her throat. "I'm going to check for tampons."

"With your pikachu bag?"

"Like I said," she hissed, pulling her arm free. "It's kind of an emergency."

"Oh," he said, beginning to believe her and wonder if he might have misheard the earlier conversation, now tormenting the poor girl for no reason. "You weren't kidding... gross."

"Thanks," Violet scoffed, brushing aside his rudeness.

Feeling kind of bad, Remus sat at the booth and wondered if he owed her an apology. He'd spent the last little while harassing her, practically kidnapping her. After all, she had tried to escape a few times. Thinking about that again, the young man slapped the palm of his hand over his face. She was still using the same ruse to escape. How could he not notice? It was textbook, the classic bail-out via the bathroom window trick.

He bolted up from the booth and ran to the women's restroom, jaw going slack from what he saw in the window; Violet's white and blue spotted panties. She was stuck in the window, legs kicking as she grunted and strained. Obviously, she was a bit too curvy to make a clean getaway. Shock gave way to laughter until she unexpectedly fell out through the other side.

"Ow," she said, from the alley, unseen to him. "You know what, Remus. You're an asshole! I don't even care anymore-PTERODACTYL!"

A brilliant flash of pink light seeped in through the open window for but a second. His gaze darted to the window; it was high, too high. The countertop for the bathroom sinks, of course. He ran over and jumped up onto the counter, shoving his right arm and shoulder through the window, watching the Pink Ranger speed off on a matching motorcycle-right arm raised, displaying a middle finger as proud as the American flag.

"AHA! I KNEW IT!" shouted Remus, "YOU REALLY WERE LYING TO ME!"

He pulled himself back into the bathroom and saw Violet's bag sitting on the floor, causing him to peek through the window and call out after her. "I HAVE YOUR POKEMON BAG, YOU BITCH!"

How was he going to catch up with her now? He needed to prove to Ceres and her other flamboyantly dressed crime fighting buddies that he found out the identity of the Pink Ranger, thus getting around his promise to not expose the Blue Ranger. He leapt down to the floor and brought Violet's backpack up to the counter, opening it to rifle through its contents. Remus then reached in and pulled out a handful of unopened condoms, dozens of unopened, brightly colored, condoms. After blinking several times, wondering if he also proved his other theory that Violet was closeted nymphomaniac, he reached in again to find the keys for the car she had left behind.

"Perfect!" Remus said, excitedly, holding the condoms in one hand and car keys in the other.

A middle aged woman, rounder in the hips, stepped into the restroom. She gasped when she saw Remus and the items in his hands. Her eyes were wide, horrified at the sight of some young man standing in the women's washroom with an assortment of rainbow condoms. Without saying anything to him, she backed out slowly. Remus watched the woman, looked at his hands, and put the condoms back into Violet's bag hurriedly.

"Hey, wait! It's not what it looks like!" Remus cried, running after her, wondering if he could ever come back here again.

**End of Chapter Eighteen**

**Author's Note:**

I am back, again! Well, let's just call this getting chapters in between a career and family life, lol. I love the outlet that this fic offers, as I get the opportunity to keep playing with my writing style. I do have a dream of sending a published and polished manuscript-original, of course-to an agent one day. Thank you for your support, not abandoning the fic, and your welcome feedback. Until the next chapter! (Hopefully sooner than later.)


	21. And along came a spider

**Chapter Nineteen: And along came a spider**

Cardio, that's what she needed. The young Ranger in pink ruminated this again, and again, as she sped and weaved through the traffic of Angel Grove, a picturesque coastal city-currently held beneath grey skies on what should have been a beautiful summertime afternoon. Getting stuck had perturbed her, and not because of her appearance. No, Violet was never a self-conscious person. In fact, she knew that she was a few sizes larger than the some girls, but she wasn't chubby either. What bothered her, and really pissed her off, was the lack of mobility. She was a Power Ranger now, and she needed to be in her best physical condition. So, as a result of her blunder in the Waffle House, she would be kicking off the next day with a healthier diet and diligent exercise regimen.

Vehicles of all sizes, shapes, and colors blurred through her field of vision as she continued to bid her sleek pink motorcycle, emblazoned to bear some semblance to the pterodactyl, on its hasty itinerary towards the monster that she could sense. The others had already arrived, she could feel it.

Fucking Remus, that cocky man whore with his perfect hair, steel blue eyes, chiseled bod- Fucking Remus, she repeated in her mind, pushing his redeeming qualities aside in order to hate him in this moment. She sneered inside of her helmet. How fucking accurate it was that his redeeming qualities happened to be his looks. Vapid creature; like brother, like sister.

She veered off of the freeway, exiting right, and not caring who she just cut off. Let them crash, she thought, angry with herself for being held up by that gorilla who thought he had a brain to match hers. The industrial park drew near as she moved through a succession of intersections, narrowly avoiding death on account of a blatant disregard for traffic safety. She was going to be late. There was a disaster at hand, and she was fucking late. Violet fumed. They were going to write it off as Violet being Violet, as always. What's more? That bitch Ceres would have some comment, even though this happened because the stupid whore had to tell her brother about her own tribulations as a fucking Power Ranger, surely. And Ryan, of course, Ryan would use this as another reason to not take her seriously and be cruel. She opened the throttle wider. Fuck Remus, that fucking asshole! She wished she had a nasty, but treatable, STD, so she could seduce Remus and give it to him. She blinked and shook her head, because she didn't really want an STD, and had no idea why she kept having sexual thoughts about Remus.

Damn it, she just had to get there. They needed her help, regardless of the mean things that they would say and think.

* * *

Barely avoiding the body shattering blow, Milo tucked and rolled to the right of this grey skinned creature's massive fist, her body conforming to the pavement as she moved beneath her own weight. The bipedal monster, with ominous white tusks, curved and massive, stood at a height twelve feet. This thick, naked, beast, a caricature of a trunk-less elephant and a violent ape, proved terrifying, and impervious to their attacks. The strike intended for Milo plunged into the red brick wall of an aging warehouse, collapsing the side of the building in a wild avalanche of wood, brick, steel, and concrete.

Milo, after rolling out of her evasive maneuver and propelling herself to her feet, ran across a short expanse to the other Rangers also in suit, all but Violet, who watched in horror at the raw power of this new monster.

"Any ideas?" she asked, turning to face the pile of rubble that had overcome the creature.

"I've got one," said Virgil, staring on incredulously as he stood to her left. "Be here on time, where the fuck is Violet?"

"Her bow might prove useful," Naomi added matter-of-factly, standing to Milo's right.

"Maybe she was sidetracked by a comic convention, or something shiny," Ceres added disdainfully, coming up from behind Naomi and standing to the Yellow Ranger's right.

"Forget the bow," said Ryan, standing behind all of them with his arms crossed, the dragon shield upon his torso shimmering with its mystic radiance. "You guys need the motherfucking cannon."

"Yeah," Milo sighed, suppressing all fear and uneasiness towards this precarious situation. "Cannon would be nice."

To signify the end of their conversation, or abruptly conclude it, Behemoth roared like the feral beast he was. His powerful limbs spanned out as he rose from the rubble, causing debris to explode out into every direction. The creature's vacant yellow eyes fixed upon the Red Ranger and her cohorts, swiftly lumbering towards them in powerful steps. Its body shook with ecstasy at the notion of trampling its prey and tearing them all asunder.

"Here it comes!" Milo cried, removing her bladeblaster from the holster on her right hip, pressing her left hand down onto the back the red dagger, closing the weapon forward and switching it into pistol mode with an audible click. "I hope you can all dodge."

They all leapt backwards, scattering, as Behemoth continued to hulk towards Milo. She smirked behind her mask, pleased that it came for her instead of her companions. The Red Ranger kicked into the air, twisting with the agility of a wildcat as she flipped and repeatedly pulled the trigger. Red blasts fired into the monster, causing it to stop in its tracks for only a split second. The damage from the bladeblasters would be dismal at best, but they needed to buy time while they planned their next maneuver. Milo landed in a crouching position, several yards away from where she had leapt. Her landing away from Behemoth subsequently signaled an onslaught from the other Rangers as volleys of black, yellow, blue, and green relentlessly fired into the beast with heavy slabs of muscle, enraging it. While still continuing to shoot, each Ranger leapt closer to Milo in an effort to concentrate the unrelenting blasts.

"Um, I think we're just pissing it off!" Virgil cried out, now standing close to Milo as he, and the others, fired shot after shot into it.

A yellow blast fired into the creature's left eye socket, charring the eyeball and surrounding flesh as blood poured forth and splattered onto the asphalt of the secluded street. The creature wailed with a rumbling bellow so potent that it caused Milo's chest to vibrate uncomfortably.

"Now you've done it!" Virgil exclaimed, his inflection perturbed and uneasy.

"At least I found a weak spot!" Naomi yelled back, indignantly.

It was obvious, they were all uneasy.

It was one thing to deal with an ambling incarnation of brute force, but to deal with a half-blind, exceedingly enraged, ambling incarnation of brute force, well, that happened to be an entirely different matter.

"Guys, now isn't the time to bicker." Milo said, evenly, trying desperately to swallow the panic that ensnared her like a bandit caught in a hangman's noose.

The bellowing beast hammered its fists down onto the street, cracking and shattering the asphalt as the ground trembled underfoot. Milo's footing shifted as her throat tightened, a side effect of the surmounting trepidation. Their battles, they kept getting tougher and tougher. How many more would they survive if they made it through this one? By the way it shook the ground with its bare hands, would they survive at all?

"We have to get the other eye," Milo declared, banishing all doubt and insecurity from her voice. She was the leader, the Red Ranger, and she could not afford to display her true emotions before her comrades, ever. To the very end, regardless of the outcome, she would remain stoic-a courageous leader no matter what happened. Though negligible, this external resolve seemed to dull the thundering of her heart and the hurricane in her stomach.

The tremors ceased, the beasts nostrils flared, and it lowered its head as it broke into an explosive sprint towards the Rangers. Instinctively, they all soared into the air with a burst of momentum from their crouching jumps. They cleared the beast, turned mid-air, and landed back down onto the precarious battlefield as the monster barreled forward like a tanker truck with a full load. It was a few dozen yards before the creature was able to come to a complete stop and face them again. As its remaining eye locked upon them, it roared fiercely. Milo felt the intensity of such a roar burn within her soul, it wanted them dead and not by merciful means in the least.

"Scatter!" Milo ordered the incomplete team, her fingers tightening around the grip frame of her bladeblaster.

"But!" Virgil piped up, seeming opposed to the idea of Milo using herself as bait.

"Do it, Virgil!" she hissed, not willing to budge on the issue.

Virgil turned his head away, appearing to comply reluctantly. "Tch."

With that, each Ranger leapt away from Milo, dispersing in every direction and out of harm's way. She had to distract it, gauge its power, and find a fatal flaw that could topple this monster like a house of cards. Taking the blaster from her right hand with the left, Milo then envisioned her sword. The image of the red hilt, the golden emblazoning upon that hilt, and the stark grey of the long, narrow, steel blade flashed through her consciousness until she could balance its tangible weight in the palm of her right hand. Smiling, she secured her grip upon the hilt and anticipated the impending onslaught of Behemoth.

Behemoth, from afar, crouched and leapt towards Milo in one explosive burst. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of his impact, Milo knelt and launched herself into the air. Behemoth landed where Milo had stood and then pushed himself vertically so as to pursue her. Milo rotated her body, hanging upside down in midair, so that she may face the ground and the gargantuan beast that pursued. Her left index finger squeezed the trigger several times, releasing the red blasts into the monster's face; a useless effort.

Milo cried out as she felt the jolt of its large hand grasp her by the torso. The entirety of his right palm and massive fingers easily encompassed her frame. She wriggled, with futility, against the solid prison of flesh and bone. Her breath escaped her as his grip began to tighten during their descent. Behemoth then landed hard on his feet, as evident by the erupting chunks of pavement and a cloud of dust billowing from the disturbance. She was held not only in an unnatural position, but also vulnerable to its powerful—fatal—grip. This was bad.

As Behemoth's hand tightened around her, Milo could feel the mass exodus of oxygen from her lungs, not to mention the excruciating pain that ignited over her entire body like fire ants tearing at her flesh. She knew, then and there, that her suit had absorbed the brunt of the damage and that a regular person would immediately die from this. She was thankful for that, but also knew that her suit could give out at any moment. To revert right now, right here, in the grip of this fiend, that meant the end for her. She closed her eyes, feeling the beads of sweat pouring forth while the burning sensation in her lungs utterly debilitated her.

The Red Ranger's vision began to blur, consciousness would fade soon—her life, too.

_Virgil_, she thought, not having the means, or the energy, to mutter his name in her final moment.

What happened next, one might call it luck or even fate if they believed in such a thing. She called it badass camaraderie.

The grip of Behemoth slackened immediately, causing her to fall the short expanse to the pavement, head first. Managing to tuck her head to her chin, and swing her legs down, Milo landed flat on her back, staring straight up at Ceres and Virgil, who were gripping the pole of the Power Lance, using it as their anchor, and standing on opposite sides while it protruded from the creature's back. Had they leapt into the air together in order to drive the large spear into the creature and save her? By the way it looked, strange as it seemed, it had almost appeared as though the two Rangers saving her life had descended from above. No sooner than Milo could attempt to process how exactly they had closed the distance so swiftly and drove the Power Lance home into the monster's back, her gaze lifted to the ruthlessness of her lover's and friend's attacks. Virgil relentlessly smashed the Power Axe against the right side of the creature's fortified skull while Ceres fired round after round from her bladeblaster into the back of Behemoth's head. The beast was stunned, but it wouldn't be for long.

Before Milo could stand again, beams of yellow and green energy fired into the face of Behemoth, making the creature already under heavy assault from the Blue and Black Ranger stagger backwards. Milo saw Virgil and Ceres look forward and cease their assault, and then immediately knew why. Naomi sprinted headlong into harm's way, leaping into the air and slamming her pelvis right into the throat of the creature, tightly snaking her thighs and legs about its neck. To Milo, it looked like riding a bull, but upside down. She stood up and watched with awe as Naomi held her body upright with the strength of her core and drove her right hand Power Dagger into Behemoth's good eye, crimson liquid spilling forth and staining her yellow thighs with it.

"Holy shit," Milo murmured, having no idea that Naomi had it in her.

Just then, Ryan came up behind her, to the left, and took her by the wrist as she still clutched her weaponry in each hand. "Going up?"

The ground immediately departed and she felt the sensation of the free fall while they gained measurable distance from Behemoth upon their subsequent landing. Was it their growth? Is this what purifying the Dead Zones meant? Growing stronger and, in turn, making Azrael stronger? It all seemed to dawn on Milo when someone like Ryan could effortlessly haul her into the air all while traversing a respectable length—half of a football field to be exact. Herself, Virgil, Ceres, Naomi, Violet, and Ryan, they were all growing in power by leaps and bounds. It was incredible, yet terrifying. Even out of suit, she was beginning to feel different. If they survived, if being the operative word, she would seek Tom's counsel and learn more of their predecessors. Surely the Power Rangers of the previous generation weren't superhuman while in suit, it just wasn't how she remembered things at all.

"Are you all right?" Ryan asked, now they had achieved a safe distance from the fray.

It was strange. Since when did Ryan show concern for anyone else's well being. This, this was genuine compassion.

"I-" she began, surprised by her comrade's latest display, "I'm fine, for the most part. I don't think I broke anything."

"Good," said Ryan, he continued speaking in a manner unfamiliar to her. "It was ballsy, I'll give you that. But, you really had me worried," he trailed off, almost seeming to be ashamed he was admitting that he cared.

"Thanks," Milo said, wincing in pain from being handled so roughly a moment ago.

"I don't know why Violet is late," he added, almost reflecting out loud as he didn't seem to be talking to her. "We left at the same time."

* * *

Violet rounded a left turn hard, finding the evacuated street where the others were. By the look of it, the burly beast had already taken down one of the warehouses. Closing the distance on her motorcycle, as she rode straight towards Behemoth, she quickly assessed the location of each comrade; Ryan and Milo were talking from a safe distance and Naomi seemed to be leaping away from the creature, covered in its blood, that Ceres and Virgil were standing on top of—a tall, thick, and monstrous beast, it looked like they had barely touched it in spite of how brutally they were lashing out at it. What in the hell was that thing? Did an elephant rape a gorilla in order to produce _that_? Jesus, it looked tough.

To shake her into reality, and confirm such a notion, the creature's massive right fist collided with the side of Virgil's helmet. The sound of the collision resounded like the ominous boom of a powerful war drum, Violet supposed, and it didn't look too good for Virgil either. Like a paper doll in the rain, Virgil's knees buckled as he reverted to human form. She could hear Ceres curse, while slightly bending her knees, as she reached out to catch the unconscious Black Ranger with the hand that she had originally anchored to her weapon with, and then viciously tore the Power Lance out of Behemoth's back with her other hand before leaping away to safety—Virgil in tow.

Virgil may have gone down, but this was her moment to make the dynamic entrance and redeem her tardiness, no thanks to that asshole Remus.

As her bike continued on, she leapt up and stood erect atop the seat of the vehicle as it travelled, summoning her Power Bow. Violet quickly braced her left arm, gripping the weapon tightly, as she made an arrow of energy by drawing the string back with her right hand. She let fly the explosive arrow, which staggered Behemoth back in a vivid explosion of pink energy, before the motorcycle wobbled out of control. The injured creature roared, stunned from the earlier assault, the loss of its vision, and now the arrow, while Violet lost grip of her weapon and toppled from her bike which tipped and slid on the ground in a hellish screech and shower of sparks. The craft came to a complete stop, and both the weapon and motorcycle dispersed into the nothingness from whence they came.

She rolled across the asphalt as her suit absorbed the brunt of the damage due to falling from her bike. All the while, she resolved that she would also be adding core training to her new workout regimen. Violet sighed, slowly standing and pacing backwards, gaining distance from the flailing, blind monster.

"Come on!" Naomi cried out, grabbing Violet's left hand with her right in a bid to turn her around and make a hasty retreat towards the rest of the team, now fully assembled.

"I think he's alive," Ceres said to the others, having knelt at his side as she checked for a pulse, Violet just catching the tail end of the conversation as she and Naomi came to a stop, and as the rest of the group stood around Virgil in a protective circle. "He took one pretty hard, but it didn't kill him."

"This is bad, he needs a Doctor," said Milo, speaking calmly in spite of the fact that her knuckles were obviously whitening around the grips of both of her weapons. "But, we can't leave that thing unchecked."

Violet's nostrils flared from within the pink, black tinted, helmet, they were probably going to blame her. She looked to the muscle toned young man, sleeping on the bare asphalt as though death itself had taken him. It would be a miracle if he could get up from that. Even if they did try to blame her, what difference would it have made if she had arrived any earlier? Her shot with the arrow barely did anything to it. They were clearly outmatched. She sighed, noiselessly, even if she felt some guilt, she tried so hard to get here, she really did.

"Violet," Ceres said with no trace of anger or contempt in her voice; however, her voice was raised all the same. "What the hell took you so long? We needed you to form the Power Cannon, and now we can't," she added, gesturing her white gloved hand towards Virgil.

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Violet spat, all but ignoring the beast that threw a wild, flailing, tantrum nearly half the length of a football field away. "It's not like I was doing my hair, I tried to get here as fast as I could."

"Well, what made you late, then?" Milo asked, her voice barely clasping on to its stoic inflection. "Did something happen?"

To answer Milo's question, with such impeccable timing, Violet's silver corolla screeched to a halt just a few feet from the flank of the group. Who was the vehicle's driver? Remus Freyja.

"Oh fuck all kinds of duck," Ceres groaned, her white hand draping over the front of her blue triceratops adorned mask.

"VIOLET!" Remus cried, leaping out of the driver's side of the four door sedan. He continued to bellow with his fists clenched. Truthfully, he looked like a bit of a raving lunatic. "Violet, I know you're the pink one!"

Violet rolled her eyes while she felt the burning stares of the other Power Rangers on her. "Um, I'm not Violet…you crazy bastard."

Remus raised the Domo backpack aloft, like an ancient warlord raising the head of a slain king. "I HAVE YOUR POKEMON!"

"It's Domo, you inbred ape! Give it back!" Violet growled.

"HAHA!" Remus exclaimed, almost euphoric with his victory as he tossed the backpack into the cab of the stolen car.

"How the fuck did he find you out?!" Ryan yelled, his body language tense and agitated in spite of the fact his green suit with white diamond patterns concealed all of him.

"It's not my fault, Ryan!" Violet replied, gasping at the realization that she just said Ryan's name. "Er, Ryan, who is definitely not from my school!"

"Ha! I knew it!" Remus cried out, triumphantly.

"This is your fault!" Ryan hissed scathingly. "You ruin everything! Why would the Ptera morpher even choose someone like you? You're useless, you bring nothing to the team, and you're dumb as shit. Is this some last ditched effort for even the great and powerful coins to include retards in the year 2011? Because, I think it is. You stalk me, you fuck shit up, and you almost got us killed more than once. Now, you've compromised our secret identities, the one thing we even had going for us! I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

Violet exhaled, feeling the air being sucked from her lungs. The words felt like heavy blows while her eyes misted and stung.

"Ryan!" Milo cried out, openly scolding him for the way in which he had just spoken. "That is no way to talk to her, apologize."

"Fuck off, Milo!" Ryan spat, turning away from group. "I also don't even know why you're the leader."

Milo spluttered, appearing to be on the verge of losing her temper.

"Now calm the hell down, Ryan," Ceres growled, "you're completely out of line and I don't like the way you're talking to Milo and Violet."

"Shove it up your ass, you over privileged slut. I know all about your little affair with the wannabe mayor, not surprising someone like you would latch onto that," the Green Ranger snarled, his gaze snapping towards Ceres as his body turned to face them all again. "You don't even know how poorly led this team is and how difficult it is to put up with all of you. I could easily do a better job."

"You punk ass little shit," Remus growled, walking up to the Green Ranger and shoving him backwards. "Nobody talks to my sister like that! Violet doesn't fucking deserve that either. You were just as fucking obvious as she was, Mr. Oliver, too. You little fucker! Why don't you take off that helmet so I can smash your face?"

"Sister? Mr. Oliver? What?" Ryan asked, easily recovering from being shoved, his tone was even yet curious. "And how would you know about all of that?"

"Unlike you, my head isn't up my ass and I pay attention. I know a lot, like the fact that you're lucky enough to even be the Green Ranger, because a little douchebag with a chip on his shoulder, like you, doesn't deserve to be a Power Ranger, let alone something as cool as the Green Ranger," Remus replied, shoving him again.

Violet watched with awe as Remus stepped up to defend her, nobody ever defended her. In that moment, she began to look at the jock that teased her in the hallways a little differently than she had before.

"You want to fight me while I'm in suit?" Ryan asked, laughing. "Let's do it. Come at me, bro."

"Come at me bro?" Remus asked, almost laughing. "Get off 4chan and get laid, you little pussy. Fuck, this tough guy act is obviously a front for the pathetic little weasel that you really are. You _would _need superpowers to fight evenly with me, too."

"Um," Naomi began, looking behind to the monster now lumbering towards them and then back to the group several times, nervously. "Um, guys?"

"Oho," Ryan chortled as he grabbed Remus, four inches taller than he, by the collar of his shirt with his left hand, "you're going down, gorilla man. Fuck the rule about personal gain; I'm going to enjoy this."

"HEY!" Ceres yelled, angrily. "You hurt him and I will rip off your head and shove it up your ass!"

"G-guys!" Naomi yelled out, her voice filled with panic. "In the time you've all been arguing, that monster is no longer stunned. I fear that we might have lost that small sliver of an advantage, because it is coming towards us."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Ryan yelled out, appearing to remember the monster as he released Remus from his grip. "Fuck this, fuck all of you!"

Violet looked over to the monster and to Remus, wondering what they would all do with him if they even survived this. He knew most of their identities now, well all but Naomi's and Virgil's. Though, Violet supposed, he did see Virgil unconscious and out of suit.

"Well, knock him dead," Remus said, chuckling nervously, as he noticed the large and muscular creature for the first time. "I now know all of your names, except for the jogger with the sexy ass. Oh, and I guess I don't know the half dead guy's name either. Got what I came for, haha."

"Wha?" Naomi uttered, stunned by his comment.

"Er, anyway, I was totally out of line pestering you all on the line of duty," he continued chuckling, backing away towards the car. "So, uh, keep up the good work and have fun not dying, kay?"

Violet glared through the visor of her helmet, seeing nothing but a cowardly ass. Maybe she was wrong about him after all.

"Remus," Ceres said, voice booming. "Whether or not I wanted this, god knows that I wanted to reveal my identity so as to DETER you, you're a part of this now. Take Virgil in Violet's car and get him to the hospital, now."

As much as Violet didn't want Remus in her car, she couldn't help but agree with Ceres. Plus, getting it out of harm's way would prove advantageous; she wouldn't get grounded if Behemoth managed smash it to bits, well, if she lived, of course. Plus, Virgil did need medical attention. It was probably better this way, in the grand scheme of things. If the rest of the team were up for it, Remus could be a little morale boosting errand boy on the battlefield, like those drummer boys that were the first to get blown up in the American Civil War. Yeah! Perfect!

* * *

As Ceres' brother scooped Virgil into his arms, Milo immediately felt a deluge of relief as it washed over her. Remus put Virgil into the backseat as Ceres opened the door for her brother. She'd heard what Ceres had said to Remus. Ceres had told her brother of her Ranger identity, because he was beginning to get too close and she wanted him to keep his distance. Milo understood her reasoning, but it didn't change the fact that her revelation had the opposite effect and compromised all of their identities. What now? Where would they go from here? They couldn't kill him, nor would she ever entertain the idea. She also couldn't bear to exile Ceres from the team, they needed her. Yet, the reality remained; an innocent bystander now knew what they were and was at risk for even knowing their secret. Could they ethically rely on him like this, carrying fallen members to safety? It seemed like a lot to ask, and how would he explain Virgil's injuries when he arrived at the hospital?

"Remus, thank you," Milo said, kindly, stopping him just before he got into the driver's side of the vehicle, "I worry, but I can't abandon my duty either. So, thank you."

"Hey," Remus said, smiling as he opened the driver's door. "You're the Red Ranger; it's your job even if it's hard. For what it's worth, from what I've seen and heard, you're doing fine. Don't listen to Ryan, I'd trust you if I were one of you."

Milo smiled, needing that more than she realized. "Thank you."

"I should go," Remus said, continuing to smile at her. "He's probably got a nasty concussion. If he's really unlucky, he might have some brain swelling, too—worst case scenario. Well, I guess not with the helmet and all. But, I've seen something like this in football. Er, take care and I'm sure I'll see you all at the hospital when you're finished up."

"Tell them th-," Milo began, only to be cut off.

"Don't worry, I've got this," Remus interrupted, closing the door of the car and speeding away in reverse before turning and driving away. Within seconds, he was out of sight and out of harm's way.

"Okay," Milo agreed, words reaching no one's ears, turning to face Behemoth as it advanced upon her and the group.

Violet, standing not too far from the rest of the group, was the first to initiate the assault by re-summoning her bow and letting one of her energized arrows shriek towards its mark. The explosion resounded, echoes bouncing throughout the empty streets and warehouses, as the monster staggered back. Perhaps, if they had the ability to combine their weapons, they might have been able to put an end to this monster's rampage. Now, well, now they were going to have to work a little harder. It was blind now, luckily, but that almost seemed to make the creature even more dangerous than before.

"Hold the line!" Milo cried, taking aim with her bladeblaster and firing numerous shots into the hulking frame of their enemy while sparks and smoke dispersed off of each impact and its subsequent burst of energy.

The other five, Virgil now excluded, fell into line, unleashing volleys of blasts from their guns while Violet stubbornly continued to rely on her bow. An arrow flew into the Behemoth's right shoulder, exploding and rolling it back dismally, mirroring the effect of a .22 magnum on a charging bear. Yes, charging, their assailant was now running towards them.

Milo wanted to scream, but found no air in her lungs to do so when she realized that the massive creature was RUNNING. Yet, her courage prevailed as she continued firing rounds from her gun at the moving target. While the effects of Violet's bow were comparable to an ineffective rifle, the bladeblasters seemed like mere pea shooters against this thing. He was getting closer, they had to evade, and they had to scatter.

"Scat—"

Violet let another arrow loose, this time flying to Behemoth's left foot where it reached its mark, exploded, and violently tripped the great brute. The group leapt back landing a short, but safe, distance away as Behemoth rolled forward several times with violent thuds before it came to a stop on the cracked pavement and faced the grey sky, unconscious.

"Huh." Ceres grunted sounding quite satisfied with the outcome. "The old adage prevails."

"The bigger they are?" Naomi asked.

"The harder they fall," Ceres replied, all but finishing her sentence.

"I guess that's one way of doing it," Milo said, appraising the damage they had done on the beast all the while. "That thing is tough. Violet's arrows couldn't even pierce it."

Ryan made a noise in his throat, conveying his obvious disdain from moments ago. Milo felt a little disheartened by Ryan's behavior, and not because his words hit home or hurt her. No, it hurt that the rapport the whole team began to build with him seemed so frail, so easily destroyed. How could they ever succeed as a team when they could barely fight as one, let alone get along with one another? When it wasn't Ryan verbally abusing other teammates because they weren't fighting up to his standards, something he couldn't even achieve on his own, other teammates were coming down on Violet for her antics. Granted, Violet didn't always speak or behave appropriately, but she was a kid in high school with a huge burden on her shoulders, they all were carrying a huge burden. Milo exhaled sadly, realizing she was maybe only a year or two older and seeing Ryan and Violet as children. But, the difference was that Violet was growing with each battle in both power and maturity. Sure, Violet was immature, wildly inappropriate, and sometimes irresponsible, but she wasn't the one that Milo saw as the weakest link; it was Ryan. He hadn't made any effort to grow with the team at all, and, if he did, such growth was swiftly retracted.

"You didn't kill it, Violet," he said, voice condescending. "It's going to get back up. I don't know why you're all acting so relieved."

"Enough," Milo sighed, capturing his attention as he turned towards her, exasperation seeping through her voice. "Your attacks are just as ineffective, Ryan, please stop acting like this. You're not making this battle any easier!"

"Well, I," he began, abruptly cut off by Ceres who came up beside Milo and placed her left hand on her shoulder reassuringly, Power Lance held in the right.

"You've a plan? Please don't hold out on us," Ceres said, coolly, waiting for him to respond. "No? Well, drat. I guess I should just do what I was going to do and try to cut his throat with my lance."

The vicious bellow erupted from Behemoth as he stood up, disoriented and agitated—far from defeated or dead.

"Or not," Ceres said, retracting her idea while the group huddled closer together and backed slowly away from the obstinate monster.

As Milo felt and heard her heart throbbing within her chest, she wondered for a moment if she could also hear the sound of a motorcycle in the distance, drawing closer.

* * *

Wyatt sat alone on his motorcycle, a black VRSCD Night Rod to be precise. He came to rest in this shadowy space some moments ago, when he could hear the distant roars of a beast on a rampage and when another Kamen Rider had obliterated the black dragon that briefly terrorized the sky.

Priorities, priorities, he reminded himself as he suppressed his rage towards that primitive looking Rider.

In the moments past, the tawny young man with tight curls drew closer to the pandemonium on the ground, as close as any observer would get, and happily took in the noises of the unfurling chaos. Indeed, out of sight and only able to listen to the heated battle, all the while lurking in the dark alleyway, between two unoccupied buildings, several twists and turns away from the fray, the young man adorned in dark blue denim jeans and a black leather jacket that concealed his grey polo smiled darkly. His logic: lie in wait near the carnage, and those rainbow cretins shall surface. As he watched them fly to the danger, like moths to the flame, one by one, he could all but sense Virgil among them. Considering what Virgil was last time their paths had crossed, it made sense that he had cast his lot with them. However, what perturbed Wyatt, and even confused him, was the fact that Virgil wasn't parading about in his shining white armor, literally. It wouldn't be like Virgil to completely forsake _that_ power and take on another, though his rival had lost his will to fight on occasion—demoralized by the cruelty of fate, or Wyatt's hands. No, this wasn't right. Something had happened; something had compromised the Lespid Zecter…something had destroyed the Lespid Zecter. But, what was it?

_What a pity, _Wyatt thought while sighing disappointedly. They weren't able to pick up where they had left off. No, he had to approach this from a new angle. Granted, he'd already taken to getting to know some of Angel Grove's locals and that proved entertaining. He even had a date with Naomi coming up this weekend. Perhaps, this game of stalking the Rangers and biding his time wouldn't be so bad, especially if he already had Virgil's love interest and friends on his radar. It was so easy that he almost felt sorry for them, but knew that in the moment when the light left their eyes that he would not. He'd keep his distance from Virgil for now, though he would get in closer to Virgil's lover, as well as her friends, and win them all over until the moment of his cruel and fatal betrayal. It would be the perfect way to hurt the fallen Rider, and bring that lost fire out.

Wyatt smiled maliciously, taking the black helmet that hung from the right side of the bike's handlebars and played with it between both of his hands.

Virgil was emotional, and transparent in what he felt. He also had a penchant for forging ill-fated bonds with those he fought alongside. That being considered, Wyatt speculated, the other Power Rangers weren't too far away from Virgil at all. It was possible that they were even his love interest and other friends that loitered in that diner, Naomi too. He felt revulsion turn his stomach, hating the very idea that Virgil had become one of them, a Power Ranger; grownups in spandex, flamboyantly colored spandex.

Beyond the mouth of alley, into the light and out of the darkness, a silver car, a Toyota by the look of it, sped past. Wyatt cocked his head to the right for a moment, pondering the direction in which it had come, before lifting it straight again. That was most certainly driving from where the battle began, a Ranger had been injured and was being carted to safety. And then, just like when the Black Ranger sped towards the battle a few moments sooner, like a sudden rush of cold air, like pins prickling his skin, he could sense the presence of Virgil Cross. This, this was certainly new.

"Convenient," he muttered aloud, fascinated by his new ability to sense when his rival was near. Perhaps, in some twisted way, he was also speaking to the fact that the battlefield was now absent Virgil. He could intervene mysteriously; he could keep Virgil at a distance. And, if Virgil's memories survived, he could taunt his old adversary when others lived to speak of his presence. Without further adieu, his right hand flashed to the key near the handlebars and turned it, bringing the bike back to life.

Wyatt took the black helmet, reminiscent to an old fashioned helmet, circa World War II, and fastened it upon his head. His hands reached for the handlebars, clenching eagerly when they had landed upon them. It had been a while since he had transformed, this would be fun. The back tires of the bike spun as the metal beast roared forward, into the soft light of the overcast city and the direction in which the battle waged on.

He was still out of sight from that disgusting lot of rainbow miscreants, but not for long, now would be the time to transform.

Wyatt raised his left hand high into the air, bidding a small white hole in the sky to open. From this small portal, a mechanical spider, violet and the size of a grown man's fist, leapt forth, flying towards its master. The mechanical tarantula, with large yellow eyes, and claws at the tip of each leg, landed upon Wyatt's right hand—the hand controlling the throttle—and sank its fangs into the fleshy part of the hand, injecting its master with some of its power in order for him to survive the transformation. Upon the bite, Wyatt's now glowing yellow eyes had almost rolled into the back of his head with pain and ecstasy while his shoulders tensed. Not losing control of the bike, he removed the spider and placed it upon the mechanical belt that simultaneously materialized upon his waist. The Tarantes Zecter's merging with Wyatt's Rider Belt signified with a resounding click.

"Henshin!" Wyatt called out, now gripping the handlebars with both hands.

_**HENSHIN! **_

The familiar voice of the zecter, boisterous and artificial, announced the advent of Wyatt's transformation. And, with it, black and purple matter moved over his frame in honeycomb-like patterns, consuming the human upon the motorcycle.

Kamen Rider Tarantes sat upon the bike with a sleek helmet of deep violet that fully encased his head, a point emerging out from each side like a pair of subtle horns. The helmet had a thick, horizontal, v-like visor that glowed yellow and had a gold plated mask beneath which covered the lower part of the Rider's new face. A golden plate of armor that began from his shoulder blades emerged, comprised of what looked like large interlocking spider legs of metal as it wrapped around to his chest and latched together seamlessly, protecting his shoulders and upper torso, while a menacing cape of black leather billowed out from beneath the golden shoulder armor like a hellish curtain in the winds. The heavy purple armor that fastened around his shins, thighs, forearms, and upper arms released a quick burst of steam out from beneath them, finalizing his transformation. During Wyatt's change, the motorcycle had also been consumed by purple electricity and undergone its very own transformation—a golden headlight within the purple casing and yellow spider fangs beneath it, to begin with. Then, plates of dark violet armor had covered the bike, radically altering its appearance. From the front and back of the bike's body, four large metallic spider legs, much like Wyatt's shoulder armor, protruded and encased the wheels in perfect harmony so as to protect them while allowing them to rotate freely. The only difference from Wyatt's armor was the fact the casing about the wheels pointed out and could stab into whatever the bike rammed due to its staggeringly sharp edges. The bike had changed with Wyatt, becoming augmented to look like the demonic vessel of the sinister looking Kamen Rider he had become.

The purple visage of a demon knight sped onwards, drawing closer, towards the Power Rangers, towards the monster that they battled futilely, and towards the ill fate that Wyatt would joyously dole out to that creature. The roar of the engine advancing towards the battle, of Wyatt approaching, that was the very sound that filled Milo's ears.

* * *

It was difficult to fathom exactly what had happened in that moment. For a start, she had been facing the angry creature that they could barely harm. And then, a violet blur had rammed into the creature so hard, so fast, that it was sent back hurtling and bleeding, rolling pathetically upon the ground. This unexpected savior, if he could be referred to as a savior, rode right through the group, not seeming to care if he had hit any one of Milo's comrades. Luckily, they had managed to evade the motorcycle. It was demonic and bore the semblance of an arachnid, much like the humanoid being sitting upon the halted vehicle.

Milo swallowed hard as her gaze met that of the man in purple. That yellow glare, how it fixed upon her like an apex predator sizing up its prey. Some part of her just knew that it was out of the frying pan and into the fire for her and her cohorts. Though, when Behemoth rose to his feet and roared viciously, enraged that someone actually held the ability to throw it off balance, Milo's head whipped away from the sinister looking Kamen Rider and to the monster not yet vanquished.

The armored motorcycle roared loudly, rolling forward as the back tires spun with dust and smoke. The bike shot past Behemoth until the brakes screeched and the vehicle spun to face the monster that had turned its back to the team of Rangers.

The team moved closer together, standing shoulder to shoulder with Milo at the center. Ceres and Naomi were to her right while Ryan and Violet stood to her left. Milo wondered if the others felt the same foreboding, the same terror that she felt, and if they had sensed that this Kamen Rider would very likely choose to move on to them once it had finished with its current prey.

"He's like Virgil, but…." Naomi trailed off, sounding as though she searched for the words. "It just doesn't feel like the same kind of presence."

"Rest," Milo said, keeping herself together, barely, hoping that the group could regain their bearings and take advantage of the opportunity presented. "If he comes for us, let's at least be ready."

She, with the rest of the group, watched on, bearing witness to what had happened next; the four metal spider legs that encased and protected the front wheel opened like a sinister lotus. From each leg, a barbed harpoon-like blade fired, attached to cables. The blades pierced into the creature, two into the chest and one in each thigh, causing it to roar in agony as blood gushed forth onto the pavement.

"Oh!" Violet cried out, not taking care to conceal her horror. Even from behind the monster, it was still a horrific sight. "I think I feel sorry for it."

Behemoth resisted against its bondage in vain as the Kamen Rider threw his motorcycle in reverse and drug Behemoth forward. The creature tumbled and bellowed with its maddening cries of pain. After stopping the vehicle, as the monster weakly rose to its feet, the cables retracted the harpoons back, in a bloody spray, into the spider legs that harbored them. The spider legs wrapped around the front wheel again, encasing it as it had been a moment ago. The Kamen Rider then dismounted, and slowly walked towards the monster on its hands and knees.

"He's going in for the kill," Milo muttered, her voice but a dull whisper.

_**CAST OFF!**_

She knew those words, she knew that artificial voice, and it sounded just like Virgil's power before he had lost it. This malevolent Kamen Rider had similar powers; it might even be stronger than Lespid was. This did not bode well, not at all. Milo looked to both sides of her, to her team, was she a fool for not ordering a retreat? They failed today; they failed as a team as much as she failed them as a leader.

* * *

Violet electricity arced across the his frame as the black cape released from the armor and fortifications upon various body parts jettisoned in every direction, some striking Behemoth while others narrowly missed the other Rangers and made impact upon surrounding buildings. Amidst the cacophony of shattering glass and Behemoth's labored breathing, the shoulder armor broke apart into four large, bladed, spider legs that looked as though a pair had sprouted from each shoulder blade like evil wings. The armor upon his upper arms split into three prongs and rose up to become diabolical looking shoulder pads on each side of him. The gold plated mask had also flung off of his face, giving way to the four pairs of golden tusk-like daggers that came forward, from the sides of his helmet, and overlapped his face, creating a new mask while the top pair bisected his yellow visor to take the appearance of two eyes. Not only did the two side panels of the helmet that were discarded allow the pieces of his face to shift upon the front, but their absence also made the prongs that mimicked horns on the sides of his head stand out more so than they did in masked form. Wyatt stood a moment, moving the fingers of his black gloved hands purposefully while the electricity subsided. Beneath all of the purple armor was a black leathery material that coated his body. Where the hands and arms joined, the Rider, with an already terrifying arsenal, also had two golden points atop his purple forearms that resembled the ends of large and deadly carving forks so as to make his punches even more devastating.

"Now you die," Wyatt growled lowly, his voice carrying nothing but disgust for the large and hideous creature. "Rider Punch."

His left hand tapped the large spider, whose fangs pointed up towards Wyatt's lower stomach, while his right balled into a fist. The spider chattered in a high pitched giggle as it eagerly extended the pointy tips of its legs to each side of the belt's center, sending a surge of purple electricity throughout the belt and into Wyatt's fist.

As he ran towards Behemoth, his fist began to pulse with a fiery malevolent aura of the same color as the electricity still danced about his waist. The sadistic man crouched slightly to the right, twisting his torso down and back as he then followed up by exploding upwards with lethal force into the jaw of Behemoth—his prongs piercing the Behemoth's throat as it was sent skyward. He wasn't finished, not by a long shot. The pairs of deadly spider legs on each side of Wyatt aimed up to the flying Behemoth, firing the tethered harpoons towards their mark. When the blades sunk into the same places that the harpoons from the motorcycle had hit, Wyatt threw his shoulders back and bid the cables to retract in order to pull his prey back to him at a neck breaking speed. As Behemoth came into range, Wyatt sent his final, deadly, punch into Behemoth's chest while the energy leapt from Wyatt's fist and into the pitiful creature. The dead monster flew backwards and landed in front of the stunned Power Rangers simultaneous to the blades retracting and returning to their rightful place. As Behemoth rapidly decayed until nothing but a blemish on the pavement remained, Wyatt began to stalk towards the group of Rangers. It was time to test the extent of their abilities, which were probably dismal since it looked like the monster had been winning.

_Regardless, _Wyatt thought, smiling within the helmet, _I'll know their suit's weak points and have at least learned something useful today._

"Retreat!" cried the Red Ranger, a female by the sound of it. Interesting.

"Clock up," Wyatt said softly, tapping his belt at the left hip.

_**CLOCK UP!**_

The Power Rangers froze into place; everything did when he clocked up. It was almost serene, that moment when his prey succumbed to the slowing of time and became utterly defenseless. He stood, staring a moment. This was almost too easy, how would he go about this one? After a brief pause, he sprung towards the Green Ranger, sending a barbed punch into his gut which lifted him off of his feet before he hung in the air.

_Resistant to piercing, but still soft and vulnerable. Satisfactory,_ he thought while spinning and backhanding the Pink Ranger with the hand that struck his earlier prey. The busty Ranger began on her trajectory of falling to the ground, but she too became suspended in the realm of drastically slowed time.

Laughing, he then leapt the short distance to the Yellow and Blue Ranger, bashing their helmets into each other. When he released his grip, they remained frozen with their heads still connected.

Wyatt turned away from the four Rangers he made short work of and traipsed towards Milo, grabbing her by the throat and raising her feet off of the ground.

_**CLOCK OVER!**_

Everyone he struck had fallen to the ground in a daze while Milo dangled in his malicious grasp. He loved when time regulated and everyone came to awareness after being knocked down, truly hilarious.

"Why?" she asked, all but choking. "Why are you doing this to us?"

Wyatt rolled his eyes, not that she could see. Couldn't people say better things than that? Couldn't they do something less pathetic than pleading for their lives or asking him for his reasons? Perhaps, he'd actually release the next one to say something creative. Squeezing her throat harder, he held the hope that she'd revert when she fell unconscious. After a few more seconds, the Red Ranger went limp and her morphed appearance fell away. He released her like a piece of discarded litter, now confirming that Milo was one of them and that their necks were their weak points. He turned away from the unconscious waitress, pleased with the result and ready to face the other four lifting their weary bodies off of the ground. The foolish creatures would have been better off if they had stayed put. He aimed the tips of his deadly spider legs at each Ranger and fired, the harpoons flying to the helmets and striking them fiercely before glancing off of them. The cables with blades on the ends retracted while the four Rangers went down. The Pink Ranger reverted when she laid there motionless, showing him that it was the ever obnoxious Violet. As the Blue Ranger reverted and fell into a barely conscious stupor, he noticed that she was the one with the sordid love life; Ceres. The Yellow Ranger's suit dispersed into oblivion as she remained on the ground, groaning; Naomi. The Green Ranger didn't revert at all, indicating to Wyatt that he was still conscious.

"You…fuck," the Green Ranger groaned, getting up though he continued to brace his hands upon his knees and pant as though it were an effort to stay conscious.

"I suppose that I didn't hit you as hard as those girls, because you seem quite weak," Wyatt said, taunting the remaining Power Ranger. "It would have been to your advantage to stay down, now you've gone and annoyed me."

The Green Ranger stood erect, maintaining some pride at least. "You moron," he said, sounding less winded than a second ago. "It's my shield; I can take a hit more than the others can."

_Why is he telling me this?_ Wyatt asked himself. _What a moron._

"Oh? Shall we test this?" Wyatt asked, his left hand hovering over the mechanical tarantula curled up into the front of his belt like some kind of stylish buckle. He tapped it once, causing its legs to extend and fill the belt with purple electricity once more. "Rider Rend."

"Gigigigigigigigi!" it chuckled in delight, almost comparable to the noise of a rattlesnake.

The harpoons fired out of the spider legs, two wrapping around each of the Green Ranger's arms and binding them. The purple electricity moved up into the large legs coming out of his shoulder blades and down the cables to the poor young man bound by them, electrocuting him.

"This will hurt," Wyatt said matter-of-factly.

_**RIDER REND!**_

He rolled his shoulders back violently, retracting the cables at the same time. The Green Ranger screamed in agony as the finishing technique ripped at his arms and pulled the shoulders from socket. As the blades returned to their homes, taking their place as deadly leg tips, the Green Ranger's arms hung limply as he crumpled to the ground and reverted—having passed out from the pain. He was some blonde youth that Wyatt had never seen before, someone who never frequented the diner. What was his role? Was he an outcast, so to speak, a straggler from the flock? Wyatt now knew the first one he would target when he was through toying with these rainbow weaklings.

No longer interested in the tableau he had created; Kamen Rider Tarantes moved towards his motorcycle and drove away from the injured and beaten Rangers who had been knocked back into human form. He'd savor this, this opportunity to observe the group, these new friends of Virgil's, from afar and even manipulate them as they had no idea he was the Rider that had defeated them on this day. Then, in the right moment, when so many held his trust, while Virgil remained oblivious to his presence, he would lunge forth and sink his fangs into his prey like the tarantula he resembled. Yes, Virgil would suffer and he would delight in this, nearly as much as he would revel in the subsequent fight with the rival he had clashed with so many times before. Wyatt would see the fierceness of Virgil invoked again, and every step of the journey would be savored as sweetly.

Despair awaited and he would be the one to deliver it.

**End of Chapter Nineteen**

**Author's Note:**

_Alright! NEW CHAPTER KITAA! I started this at the beginning of July, finishing the first half of it. I had to put it on the back burner while my wife and I packed up and moved to a new place. After settling in, I was finally able to finish this over the past couple of days. I'm not entirely sure when the next chapter is coming, because my wife could go into labor for kid number three at any time. But, I can promise two things: it will have a deadzone and I will be getting started as soon as the new baby is home and settled in. If there are enough people interested, I may make a twitter specifically for my account. You know, an excuse to visit and post my progress. Let me know if it sounds like a good idea or a dumb idea. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it._


	22. Her darkened reflection

**Chapter Twenty: Her darkened reflection**

The general din of the Angel Heart Hospital's waiting room was painful at best. To add to that, as if the headache from the purple Rider's beatdown wasn't enough, Ceres sat and endured the whines and complaints of a sick toddler. On the same token, she did take pity on the little boy across from her, curled up on his father's lap. The child's features were pale and the fine light hair upon his head reminded Ceres of the down upon a newborn gosling. The child whimpered in pain and nestled into his parent, only showing Ceres his backside. She smiled sweetly and looked over to her brother, Remus, seated at her right. His eyes fixed upon the ruddy floor of tiled brick as he sat, never leaving since he brought Virgil here. She remembered a time when he was once as small and helpless as that child. Now, he had grown to be a robust young man, caught up in her secret life as a Power Ranger. This, this wasn't what she wanted for him. Her silver gaze darkened with the realization that he had crossed over the point of no return—just as entangled in this secret life as she and her friends were. She blinked several times, fought the tears, and looked away from her brother who neither paid her any heed nor knew her thoughts.

"I hate hospitals," Violet said boisterously, at the left of Ceres, "they smell like death, and old people."

Ceres heaved a sigh, interwoven with a rumble in her throat conveying a hint of irritation. "Well, you are welcome to leave at any time. Naomi and Milo went home."

"Yes, because she had to cover a shift at the Diner and Naomi has an exam tomorrow," Violet said plainly, not seeming to care about how Ceres spoke to her. "So, I am keeping an eye on Virgil for her."

"Really?" Ceres asked, certain it was Ryan she waited for. "I thought you were here for Ryan."

"Fuck Ryan," Violet replied, furrowing her brow while evoking chuckles from Remus.

Ceres said nothing and folded her hands upon her lap. This was an interesting turn of events, but she wasn't about to preoccupy herself with the affections between teenagers. Instead, her thoughts wandered to Tom, who sat anxiously at Ryan's bedside while he slept off the dose of painkillers...after the doctor had pushed his arms back into socket. Oh, that poor boy. Whether or not they thought a lot of him, they had all shuddered with empathy when Ryan's screams of agony echoed throughout the corridors of the ER. This last battle had its casualties and it was jarring for all of them.

During her musings, she had failed to notice the presence of a woman in scrubs, close to her own age, standing before her.

"Excuse me," said the aloof nurse, aquiline features and her dull brown hair tied back tightly, making it look as though her crisp and solemn features were taut as a result of it. "Mr. Cross is awake and will see you now."

Ceres stood up with the others. She had about had her fill of this room, littered with germ coated magazines, cheap nature art upon the walls, and bulletin boards laden with a collage of posters about cervical cancer, domestic violence, sexual assault, and strains of influenza. Her steps carried her achy body behind the nurse that led them down a corridor to a private room where Virgil had slept off his injuries. She could hear a familiar voice, as well as the voice of the Doctor who had initially examined Virgil, while they rounded the corner.

"It's quite remarkable," said the Doctor to Tom, both of them standing at the door of Virgil's room. "I have never seen such a swift recovery from a rugby injury that severe. I had thought we'd need to get him in for a CT scan, but he's no longer showing any signs of a concussion. I'm a bit baffled, but we can discharge him right away. Please watch for symptoms and bring him back if he displays any."

"This is fortunate," said Tom, smiling politely to the elderly physician. "What of my nephew?"

"When he wakes, we can examine him as well," the Doctor replied, coolly, still unsatisfied with the explanation for Ryan's injuries, or with the fact that the boy's guardian insisted that contact with the police was unnecessary. They had all told the Doctor that Ryan had been jumped by a group of disgruntled students from his school. The Doctor, however, seemed to suspect Tom of harming the minor, but wouldn't say it directly.

"Very good," Tom smiled, refusing to fold beneath the Doctor's judgmental gaze.

"Quite so," replied the Doctor, abruptly walking away to examine other patients in his wing. "Janice, please come help me with Mr. Andrews in room 112."

"Well," Ceres began, walking up to Tom as the nurse diverged from the group and followed her superior. "I have to praise your discretion; I'd have decked him for acting like that."

"As much as I'd like to retain my stance on the high ground, I will admit that it was tempting," Tom laughed, placing his hands in his pockets. "Our friend Virgil also lacks the insurance and the funds to pay the bill, so there's that to sort out for later. Not a good way to begin my summer vacation, but I'm willing to help out however I can."

"I didn't think of that," Ceres said, thoughtfully. "I'll also do what I can to help out."

"That's very kind of you, Ceres," Tom replied, grinning. "A teacher's salary is a teacher's salary, after all. But, I also don't want you to feel obligated. In the grand scheme of things, financial matters are paltry. What's important is that the monsters were stopped today."

"Not by our hands," Ceres murmured bitterly. "You said that people saw a figure in red and black kill the dragon, and we saw that purple rider kill the Behemoth. We were powerless to do anything, really."

"You tried your best," Tom reassured her, looking pensively at Remus who now knew everything about the team. "You'll all get there, I know it."

"I'm just glad you drove out to investigate the fiasco," said Ceres, swallowing hard. "Otherwise we'd still be out there, and who knows what condition Ryan might have been in."

"Instincts, I suppose," Tom agreed, motioning all of them into the room. "I have things that I must discuss in private."

Ceres, Violet, Remus, and Tom all filed into the room inhabited by Virgil, who was currently adorned in a floral patterned hospital gown. The room was a pale blue and void of any decor but an electric bed, oak nightstand, and a countertop beneath the large window that allowed light from the outside to pour in. A small bathroom with a walk in shower was attached to the room for the patient's ease and comfort. Virgil smiled at them, but could hardly conceal his disappointment and worry when Milo was not among them.

"Is she okay?" Virgil asked, sitting up, concern evident in his voice as his brown eyes traced the group restlessly. "She's not hurt, right?"

"No," said Violet, having been silent until now, with a shake of her head. "She's a little banged up, but something came up at the diner. She asked me to check on you."

"Oh good," Virgil sighed, relaxing back into his bed. "I'm relieved. I honestly thought we were goners, that thing was tough. So, who finished it off? Ceres?"

Everyone said nothing.

"What?" Virgil asked, looking confused by everyone's discomfort. "You're all looking like I just dropped the 'n word'."

"We couldn't win, Virgil," Ceres said, standing at the end of his bed, her eyes were narrowing as she searched for the words. "It was a Kamen Rider."

"What?!" Virgil hissed, sitting up in his bed. "What do you mean it was a Rider?"

Tom crossed his arms and watched intently while he leaned against the wall. Violet and Remus, on the other hand, moved and were now sitting upon the countertop, in front of the window, like a pair of observant children interested in what kind of conversation would unfurl.

"What I said, Virgil, it was a Kamen Rider," Ceres reiterated, emphasising 'Kamen Rider'. "He killed the Behemoth and then fought us. Once he clocked up, it was over. He had powers like you used to have, Virgil. And, I know for a fact that he was toying with us. Otherwise, we'd be dead right now."

Virgil rubbed his temples with both hands and swore, becoming visibly agitated. "Did it look like a beetle, or praying mantis?"

Ceres shook her head.

"Well, what then?" Virgil growled with his tone impatient. "A Rider is the last thing we need to be up against, especially a bad one...especially him."

"Him?" Tom asked, raising his eyebrows curiously. "Your memory is returning?"

"In fragments," Virgil said, lowering his hands upon the white bedsheet. "Don't worry about what I said; I know that I killed him. It's impossible that he followed me here. I can't remember who he was, but I know that I killed him. He's dead...whoever-just forget it."

"I don't follow," Ceres drawled, placing her hands on her hips, irritated with his ambiguity. "You're being kind of cryptic."

"I said forget it," Virgil snapped, agitated by his own confusion. "I don't know enough to give you anything solid. There are other Riders, but..."

"It was a purple spider," Ceres interrupted. "Do you remember anyone like that? Knowing who he is would be kind of helpful."

Virgil slumped into his bed. "Huh, I definitely have no memory of a spider. In fact, I'm pretty sure there weren't any Riders like that, ever."

"Well, be sure to kindly inform us of your past when it's convenient, my dear," Ceres huffed with exasperation. "Since it is now our business when, you know, Riders are popping up out of the woodwork and trying to kill us."

"I'll get right on that," Virgil scoffed, looking away from Ceres.

"Guys, guys," Tom said, stepping forward and uncrossing his arms. "Don't bicker. Amnesia isn't as simple as trying to force recollections. Virgil may regain his memory in pieces, all at once, or not at all. So, it's pointless to get irritable about it."

"Sorry," Virgil and Ceres both said, in unison, like children who had been scolded on the playground.

"Better," Tom chuckled. "Now, since I have the floor, I must address the fact that Remus here is not a Ranger and now knows our identities. What are we going to do about this? Bear in mind, I am not in favor of killing him, torturing him, and have no means to erase his memory."

There was an awkward pause in the room.

"Right then," Tom said, clearing his throat. "My sense of humor is a bit dry, I suppose. But, the fact remains, we've no options but to place our trust in," he paused for effect, "Remus."

"Uh," Remus grunted, incredulously. "Remus is in the room, Mr. Oliver."

"Indeed you are, but it is common knowledge that you are a bully, a delinquent, a philanderer, and an incredibly reckless person," Tom said, bluntly. "And, in a matter of hours, I have gone from worrying about whether or not you'd graduate from high school to worrying about whether or not you'll survive long enough to get there. This is a dangerous calling and you just had to pry, didn't you?"

"Oh," said Remus, looking down at the white floor as his feet dangled inches from it. "I guess."

"Well, knowing that, you now know the importance of keeping it to yourself. Am I clear?" Tom asked, cracking his knuckles.

"Crystal," Remus sighed.

"METH!" Violet exclaimed.

Everyone's heads snapped in her direction.

"What?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders. "Like you all weren't thinking it."

"I was," Virgil admitted, grinning impishly and winking at Violet who giggled.

"Remus," Ceres began, returning to the topic. "I think it's for the best that you just try to forget about what we are. You need to keep away, because our enemies could use you to get to us. Do you understand?"

"Whatever," Remus responded, his voice laden with cool apathy.

"Grab your shit, Virgil," Ceres ordered, "I need a drink, or two, or ten."

"Sure, make me drink through the concussion," Virgil teased, not losing his mischievous smile. "What does not kill, am I right?"

"Ceres, a word please?" Tom asked, walking out of the room and bidding her to follow.

As they crossed the threshold of Virgil's hospital room, Tom stepped in and spoke quietly. "I hate to pry into one of your darker times, but I happen to know you've spent some time here in the past. Is the top floor of any significance to you?"

"It's where I spent most of my time recovering and doing physiotherapy, why?" she asked, a bit confused about why he'd even bring that up. It was a darker time indeed, something she didn't like to talk about at all.

"The top floor is where renovations are happening, but it's on hiatus due to a couple of freak accidents, fatal accidents," Tom replied, his voice calm. "I have also done some investigating recently, and it seems that the top floor of this hospital is one of the Dead Zones."

Ceres' eyes widened with horror.

"I feared as much," Tom sighed. "This Dead Zone belongs to you, then. I'm afraid that it's your trial, Ceres, and it will spread through this hospital like a cancer. If you don't overcome it soon, I fear that more innocent lives will be lost."

"Are you—"

She turned from him and walked briskly towards the access to the stairway. If it was her mess, and if lives were on the line, she'd face her demons. There was no time to sit and chat about whether or not she'd be okay with this.

"—ready?" he trailed off. "Okay, then."

* * *

Tom watched Ceres disappear into the stairwell and sighed, concerned for her and the wellbeing of the people in the building. This was, to date, the only Dead Zone close to so many innocent people, and in a public facility. The mansion was private property, the subway was abandoned, the park didn't have so many people near it, and the hotel was still closed. If the trial took a turn for the worse, it could easily become disastrous for all involved. For that reason, it seemed prudent for Tom to remain at Ryan's side and in a position where he could quickly respond. Before he could turn back into the room to inform his allies of where Ceres was heading, a silken voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Excuse me," said the attractive and worldly man in a tailored suit of midnight black, his eyes emerald and his skin an olive tone. "I couldn't help but notice you speaking with a friend of mine and I got to thinking, how would my friend Ceres and William's friend know one another? Tom, I believe?" he asked, extending his right hand in order to shake Tom's. "William speaks quite highly of you."

"Oh," Tom vocalized, curiously, as he shook the man's hand, "this is interesting. Alexander Orpheus knowing me by name, I'm quite honored. According to the polls, our fine city adores you."

"Well," Alexander chuckled, retracting his hand and returning to his smoother inflection. "I do love Angel Grove and want the citizens to know prosperity and happiness. It's also an honor to meet a fine educator such as yourselves, a _mentor _who shapes the next generation of our city."

"Thank you," Tom said simply, his chestnut gaze fixed upon Alexander with curiosity and purpose. The emphasis on mentor was an interesting word to linger upon, his eyes narrowed subtly as he felt the hairs on his neck stand. "Why are you here, exactly?"

"There were some citizens injured by the attacks today," Alexander said gravely. "I came to pay them a visit, as well as their expenses. Today's economy pains me, and many people are denied the care they need. I help out where I can."

"That's very kind of you," Tom said, reaching for some semblance of sincerity from wherever he could find it. There was something about this man, something that made his oozing charisma a bit unsettling.

"In fact, there is also a young athlete who had no insurance and was injured during rugby practice. I was on my way over to inform him that I had made the matter disappear," Alexander purred. "After all, a fine young man should not suffer financially because he is actively bettering himself. Do you not agree?"

"I'm afraid he is resting," Tom lied, "but I know him well and would be happy to tell him when he wakes up."

"That would be splendid," said Alexander, smiling a lupine smile. He took Tom's hand in his once more and shook it. "Again, it was a pleasure. I must now find out where Ceres has gone, so I am afraid it's goodbye—for now."

Before Tom could stop Alexander, he had turned away and made his way to the stairwell in elegant strides.

"Complicated," Tom said to himself, refraining from uttering any expletives.

"Tom," Virgil stepped out, now dressed in his usual t-shirt and blue jeans, "what's wrong?"

"Oh, you know," Tom said, "Dead Zones on the top floor of hospitals, politicians who go into them, and the fate of hundreds being held in Ceres' aggressive and capable hands—the usual."

"I should probably go help then," Virgil said, pensively.

"Oh, sure," Tom said sarcastically. "Why not? The more the merrier. In fact, take Remus with you."

Virgil nodded and took off in the direction of the staircase while Remus had overheard and moved past Tom, following swiftly after Virgil. Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"Sarcasm; it IS called sarcasm."

Standing here and joking was all that he could do, and that was what bothered him the most. All he could do now was wait, be ready to help with evacuations, and hope that all hell would not break loose. At this time, it was highly likely; however, if another entity with any Ranger abilities, past or present, stepped into the Deadzone, devastation would then become a certainty. Tom sighed with worry and returned to the room in which Ryan slept.

* * *

Ceres hadn't quite made it to the top floor when the familiar croon of her lover had assailed her senses and left her fine hairs standing on end. What in the hell was he doing here? She turned around, feeling the churn of anxiety at the pit of her stomach. There was something she had to take care of, and she certainly didn't want to suck someone isolated from her Ranger life into all of it. He needed to go, Ceres knew that she needed to get rid of him.

"Alex, what are you doing here?" she asked, glowering down towards him, three steps away.

"The top floor is closed for renovations," Alexander cooed, elegantly, raising his chin with arrogance. "I should ask what you're doing trying to access it."

"I—"

"You are covering something up," he purred, placing his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks. "I can tell. There's something you want to see there?"

"No," she stammered, indignantly. "I am just—"

"It's alright, Ceres," Alexander said soothingly, smiling up at her while his emerald stare sharpened like a well crafted blade. "I completely understand."

"You do?" she asked, right hand on her hip and her left brushing her tawny locks out of her face.

"Mhmm," he sang, merrily, "you're coming to terms with everything that happened to you by confronting it head on. That's quite therapeutic and admirable as well."

She thought a moment and then nodded, realizing that it was simpler to go with that. Ceres lowered her left hand from where it had brushed aside her hair and placed both hands into the front pockets of her jeans. He had thought that this was some personal and spiritual issue for her, and he wanted to see how she was doing. It was sweet of him, in a way.

"But, how did you know I'd be here?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow dubiously.

"Oh, well, I didn't," he replied plainly. "I was visiting some patients and saw you walking to the stairs. I wanted to see how you were doing and if we were still on for this evening. We are, right?"

What an idiot she had been, assuming he was following her and messing with her. Ceres felt bad for jumping to conclusions and thinking the worst of him. Immediately, her defenses lowered as her stance relaxed.

"Of course we are, Alex," she said with a smile. "Thanks for checking up on me, too. This is just something I need to deal with and experience on my own. I'm starting to see how fucked up I am and I heard that confronting these kinds of things helps."

"Not to worry," he said raising his hands in a form of surrender. "I will happily walk away."

As he turned away, Ceres couldn't help but call to him. "Alex!"

He turned around and locked eyes with her. "Yes?"

"Please don't tell anyone I did this."

"Your secret is safe with me," he replied, bowing as a fashionable gentleman would, likely as a means of being humorous.

"Thanks," she said, before turning from him and carrying herself to the door of the top floor and whatever waited behind it.

* * *

As Virgil ran up the stairs, he realized how amazing he felt in spite of his earlier injury. It was almost as though it had never happened at all. But, why? It didn't make any sense. In fact, it made just as much sense as Alexander Orpheus standing in the stairwell. Virgil, with Remus behind him, came to a stop just several steps below the well dressed politician.

"Ah! Hello, Remus," Alexander said pleasantly. "I wasn't aware you were here with your sister."

Virgil's mouth went dry.

Yet, in contrast, sluice gate had been opened in his mind, the words that should have formulated into potential sentences spilled out into oblivion. It was when Remus' broad arm wrapped around him in a powerful sideways hug that he regained his bearings.

"Ah, well this guy took a fall the wrong way when I clobbered him," laughed Remus. "I thought I killed him and Ceres came to see me for moral support, but she just yelled at me," he trailed off like a little boy in a world of trouble.

"Ah, the rugby player, yes," Alexander cooed, sharpening his gaze. "The one who Tom said was too tired for a visit? It's pleasing to see that you're looking rather well."

Remus made a dumbfounded rumble in his throat, relaxed his arm around Virgil, and said nothing.

"I'm sorry, the concussion has me a bit moody and Tom was covering for me," Virgil said, breaking the silence and marvelling at how well his words returned to him. Virgil stepped up and shook Alexander's hand with vigor. "I came this way to thank you for covering the costs, so. Thank you, sir."

"You're quite welcome," said Alexander, warmth pervasive in his inflection and he returned the handshake before he subsequently broke the embrace of hands.

"Hey, Alex," Remus said, with obnoxious familiarity, interrupting the conversation. "Did you see my sister?"

"Yes, I have, and she's upstairs taking care of something personal." Alexander replied, smiling. "But, you're not allowed to go after-"

Remus ran past, almost shoving through Virgil and Alexander.

"—her."

"Remus!" Virgil cried out, yelling after him as he ran up the stairs and through the door that literally led into a Dead Zone.

"One moment, please," said Alexander, turning away and briskly walking up the stairs. "If I let him get in the way of whatever she's doing up there, I'm pretty sure she'll be angry with me."

"But—" Virgil spluttered uselessly after Alexander, who also went through the door and disappeared into the Dead Zone.

"God damn it!" Virgil exclaimed to no one in particular, now making his way up the stairs and placing his hands upon the metal bar of the door. He could feel the dark aura of the Dead Zone resonating with the morpher in the front left pocket of his blue jeans. It was almost as though some unseen entity warned him of the presence beyond the door and asked him if he was sure he wanted to proceed. Of course he was sure, he thought back, angrily pushing the door open and stepping into the darkness that awaited him.

And, as his footsteps echoed on the stark white tiles of the abandoned ward, he found nothing. Yet, he could sense the impending danger and he also felt different. When Virgil looked down at his hands, he cried out in horror to see the gloved hands of the Black Ranger. How in the hell did this happen? He didn't morph, so how did he end up like this? It dawned on him that the Dead Zone had triggered a reaction from his morpher, an automatic transformation. His fingers traced over the silver morpher at his waist, the strange device that strove to protect him.

"Not good," he muttered to himself. Ceres had to be found, he had to find the two civilians that wandered in, he had to help her purify the Dead Zone, and he had to somehow keep all hell from breaking loose.

* * *

Remus found himself running through the empty halls, sneakers squeaking upon the white tiles, calling his sister's name in vain. Just what was going on? It was only one empty floor of a freaking hospital, so why couldn't he find her. He came to a stop in what must have been an empty lobby, void of all furnishings. Remus, large and boasting a great deal of muscle tone, shrieked like a small child when he felt a hand a grasp his shoulder tightly. He spun on heel and cocked his fist back, only to relax and lower it when he saw Alexander, holding his left elbow with his right hand while the left curled and pressed over his lips.

"Very funny, Alex," Remus groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Well, who did you think I was?" Alex smiled impishly, lowering his hand and revealing his ivory grin. "The reaper?"

Remus scoffed and shook his head, pacing the expanse of the empty lobby. "Whatever, dude. That was weak."

"I wouldn't have guessed that by the way you reacted," Alex teased.

"Hey, knock it off. It was a perfectly natural reaction," Remus hissed, becoming agitated at the prodding of his would be brother in-law.

"Which part, exactly," Alex purred facetiously, patting Remus' left shoulder with his right hand, "the scream, or almost decking me? Both, maybe?"

Remus swatted Alex's hand off of his shoulder, groaned with exasperation, and stormed out of the empty lobby. Alex laughed again and followed after him.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I embarrassed you. I won't make fun of you again," Alex conceded, smiling angelically and holding up his hands while apologizing.

"Ugh, fine, whatever," Remus agreed, stopping and fighting a smile. "I guess it IS better that you're being your usual self instead of that whole stuffy 'I'm gonna be the mayor' thing. What the hell is up with that? Is it part of the job to be so polite and fake all the time?"

Alex paused a moment, his face contorting with his contemplative efforts as he sought away to say it more delicately, and sighed to signify that he gave up on that effort. "Pretty much, yeah. Full time job."

"Gross," Remus drawled, for effect. "I don't know whether to be impressed or disgusted."

"Both?" Alex suggested, shrugging his shoulders as he offered a quizzical expression.

"Do you think Ceres went back already?" Remus asked, changing the subject and walking away from Alex. "Maybe she did, let's go back. I'm bored."

All of a sudden, a blood curdling scream echoed through the corridors-disembodied and coming from every direction. The scream, it sounded just like Ceres. Remus and Alexander exchanged glances, concern flashing through the both of them.

"Ceres!" Alexander gasped, "She's in trouble!"

* * *

Ceres, not in peril, nor having heard or released any kind of scream, moved through the hallways stripped to studs, wires, and pink fibreglass insulation. She was automatically transformed, as Virgil had been, and found herself at the same conclusion. Though odd for the Blue Ranger to be wandering around a hospital floor in the midst of renovations, it really didn't matter to her, because, as far as she knew, she was the only one on the floor anyway.

This place, how she hated it. Hell, she practically lived here for so many god damned weeks. The power tools that had occupied this corridor were arranged neatly, indicating that whoever's hands held them would eventually return for them. Ceres found her thoughts wandering to the freak accidents; lost limbs, spilled blood, electrocution, and even decapitation-the possibilities were endless. So, just what happened up here? What scared so many workers into quitting their jobs? Just what kind of calamity had the Deadzone caused?

Whether it was nostalgia, or the dark callings of the haunted space the Deadzone's demonic energy occupied, Ceres found herself coming into the vast room where she had once learned to walked again. The room was bare and stripped, yet a wall to wall, floor to ceiling mirror remained and radiated an ominous vibration that drew her closer. Within the mirror, she saw herself out of suit even though she could feel the familiar power that only flowed through her very being when she donned the skin tight suit of white and blue. Beyond the illusion of her reverted self, staring with solemn accusation, the room was as she had remembered it-white washed and littered with various pieces of exercise equipment, as well as the narrow wooden parallel beams that she had braced herself on when walking was difficult. It was so vastly different from the stripped down room she stood in. Closer, the mirror beckoned her and she stepped pensively towards it, reaching her hand towards the glass as her reverted self reached back.

Ceres touched the glass and it felt like ice on her hand while rippling like water on the placid surface of a pond. She drew her hand back, frightened yet mesmerized by the way the mirror rippled out from her touch. The hand of her reflection, before she could completely move her hand away, reached through the mirror and clenched with enough force that would have undoubtedly splintered her wrist if not for the protection of her Ranger suit. She cried out in surprise and resisted, to no avail, as instincts of danger would dictate. The hand squeezed tighter, causing her to wince from behind the visor. Ceres looked to her wrist to see the bronze hand bonded to her wrist, then up to the reflection. It was no longer her reverted self, but a wraith-like entity wrapped in a hooded cloak of midnight cloth.

"Azrael!" she gasped, resisting with all of her might.

Such efforts were futile and Ceres could then feel the force of his preternatural strength tear her from this plane of reality and into the realm of the sinister mirror, leaving only ripples of glass that solidified and shifted back into the mirror which simply reflected the bare bones of the room it inhabited.

**End of Chapter Twenty**

**Author's note: **

Wow, guys! Over a year! What can I say? I lost steam a while back, but now I'm back in the mindset for this. I'm sorry I called a hiatus, if anyone happened to read that announcement in my Pokemon/Mafia fic. If you haven't read the fic itself, do it because it is AWESOME.

Long story short: I got into a bad car accident and miraculously walked away from it when I should have been maimed and killed and what not. Instead, I crawled out of the wreckage of a totaled Impala with just a banged up knee and sprains in my wrists... and a lot of spectators. The truck driver was at fault and got into a LOT of shit. That was about five months ago, so I'm fine now. Then, I took a new job in a town over 300 miles away! So, we spent the past few months living out of two towns, me making weekly trips home on weekends, and hunting down a place. We've been in the new place for a month and we're all settled in. During this big writing hiatus, I found myself really missing this fic and I've returned to write it. I also feel like my style is changing for the better and hope you enjoy the chapters to come. By the way, I know this is a cliffhanger. I'm actually typing the new chapter as we speak. I'm doing this thing where I carry a notepad and jot out my plans for future chapters. I highly recommend it, because it sped my writing up a lot. Until next time, folks! Please read and leave reviews!


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